Hope's Peak - Dual Assignment
by throwcementatmyface
Summary: A new calendar year at Hope's Peak Academy has the higher-ups retrying an old system for cultivating talents. Whether it will work is down to the students of Class 77 and 78 (This story is on hiatus, which is fancy speak for "I'm too embarrassed about the early chapters to come back to it." Read my other story, The Understudy, instead).
1. Project 0

Hope's Peak

Dual Assignment

It had been just two weeks since the turn of the new year, and yet Hope's Peak had once again sprung to life. The students of the prestigious academy had filed into the great iron gates, eager to establish or re-establish their place as an Ultimate. Yet as the frigid air hung cold over the school grounds, the hope and passion of the returning students seemed to warm the air around the grounds. Talents of every type: whether involving mathematics or literature, science or computing were all catered to here; their wielders refining them to a razor-sharp edge. And so it came to be that in order to cultivate that talent, it was inevitable those gifted with them would have to interact. Or at least, that was what those running the place decided.

Often times these "interactions" were more akin to nuclear meltdowns on a rather grand scale, as clashes between Ultimates and classes began to take place rather quickly and end just as quickly, usually in what would be described as a grandiose show of… enough with the fancy talk, it was in just a dick-measuring contest.

Of course, these "dual-class assignments" had been ended long ago. Having Ultimates at each other's throats wasn't all that problematic, squabbles between teenagers were natural. But those in charge didn't like how it reflected the rather pristine image of the school. However, this year was different.

Both Class 77 and Class 78 were both the most promising and most odd classes the school had seen in years. The talents (and the people behind them) hallmarked a promising (and enigmatic) future for both classes. There also seemed to be some overlap in personality and synergy in talents Hope's Peak wished to see put to good use. Perhaps out of hope, but most definitely out of an odd masochistic desire to see past failures undone, it was decided upon the turn of the new year to dust off the old fuck-up cabinet and see if they could actually do something that could help the students and their talent and not have them at each other's throat's come the end of term.

The students of Class 78 were all sat inside their classroom, patiently awaiting the arrival of their teacher, Chisa Yukizome. Conversation arose about what could happen this year; their hopes; ideas; and what massive fuck-off disasters awaited.

"I fear if I excel too much this year, the true power of my Dark Devas will awaken and I will bring ruin to the mortal realm!"

"No-one's buying that, Gundham..."

"I just hope I get through the year without people being mean to me..."

"Like _THAT'S_ happening, pigshit!"

"...Did someone mention shit?!"

"Man, all this talking sure is making me hungry..."

"Well… I could prepare you something. Of course, I'd need repaying… Cash is my second favorite option..."

Y'know. Teenage stuff. And you can tell who's talking there. I don't even need to specify it. Continuing on…

Suddenly, a woman dressed in a sky-blue skirt suit and white dress skirt entered the classroom. Her orange hair caught the sunlight that flowed through the window panes at the side of the classroom and her demeanor seemed to brighten up the already polished and austere classroom. Following behind her was a man dressed in a black suit and tie, with short black hair that was somehow unkempt and professional at the same time entered the room.

"Everyone, this is Mr. Rao. You don't need to remember the name, he'll be gone by the end of this chapter."

"...what was that Miss Yukizome?" Peko chimed in.

"Disregard it. And also disregard the fact we're talking like Americans despite the fact we're clearly Japanese." Chisa replied.

"Man, this is one weird alternate universe..." Mahiru called out, ignoring the boundaries set out by the author.

"Anyway, Mr. Rao is here to explain the failings of our education system and why it will totally work this time."

"I'm… not here to do that. At all. Have any of you students heard of the old Hope's Peaks' dual-class assignments?"

Many cries of "no,' a few confused looks and the odd snore from Chiaki told Rao all he needed to know.

"...Same as 78 then. It involved a merging of two classes within the academy, in order to cultivate talent and create long-lasting bonds between Ultimates. I'd say it was 50% hit 50% miss." Chisa suddenly shot Rao a piercing glare. "Well, 100% miss. But this year, it's different. Maybe. Looking at the talents, personalities, personal records and sometimes," Rao shot a glance at Fuyuhiko, "criminal records, we've decided to try this one more time. So if you could all come with me to the hall-"

"Which hall? There are, like, fifty."

"The second floor, hall two, Miss Mioda. Just down the hallway from this classroom, in fact. Please, follow me."

The whole of Class 77 stood up and prepared to make their way to the hall. Apprehension and excitement clashed between them. The class was comfortable working with one another – mostly. So would working with a group of complete strangers even work? The optimists among them thought "of course!" but the pessimists among them thought otherwise. Rao swung open the door to the hall.

The hall itself was a testament to the wealth of Hope's Peak. It was spacious and grandiose, with new technology covering every wall and corner; a statement within itself. And in the middle of it all, two classes of complete strangers sat, ready to forge ahead with what the next few weeks were to throw at them. No matter how far south it went.


	2. Project 1, Part 1

Assignment 1:

Kazuichi Souda and Chihiro Fujisaki

Kazuichi Souda never truly felt right at Hope's Peak, despite it was what he very much considered his home. Perhaps it was a mixture of how he presented himself versus how he actually was, or perhaps it was the overwhelming amount of talent he was surrounded with. Whether it be fame, (such as in the case of Sayaka Maizono, Byakuya Togami (both of them) and – of course – Miss Sonia, a literal princess) or infamy (such as his friend, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu and Mondo Owada) he felt that the son of man who ran a mostly unheard of bike shop in a small corner of Japan was in over his head. He knew there were also some in his class and the new class, Class 78, who had also achieved a small following, despite their relatively humble upbringings and talent.

His loud outfit, naturally, gained quite a few questioning stares from the other class - though he knew his punk outfit and attitude was just a facade, one they had yet to see past. He wanted to keep it that way. He sighed and sat down, eager to get whatever this was over with.

"What's up?" Fuyuhiko whispered, leaning in.

"I mean, do we really have to work with these guys?" Kazuichi replied.

"Huh? I mean, if the academy wants us to, we'll have to. Get over yourself."

"O-okay." Kazuichi had learned to expect an insult or two laced in Fuyuhiko's sentences. But, perhaps he was right. As he thought this, a voice sprung up from the front of the hall.

"Attention, students!" cried Rao. He didn't have much of a presence in the room, and his voice came our desperate and reedy. "Ahem. The assignment will now begin!" Almost immediately, a hand from Class 78 sprung up.

"Sir, what do we have to in this 'assignment?'" Kiyotaka yelled out.

"I was getting to that, Mr. Ishimaru," Rao replied, a glint of annoyance in his eye. "The goal of this assignment is to cultivate the talents of our students, through inter-class co-operation. Unlike the past few years, you have been assigned into pairs, rather than one whole class. These pairs have been decided on the compatibility of your talents, and those with incompatible talents have been matched on personality. This is in order to ensure the students won't be at one another's throats. What you and your partner decide to do as a project is up to you, however, it must involve your respective talents, or you will face disqualification. We understand those of you with less practical and physical talents will have some trouble organizing an assignment involving a physical presentation. Taking this into account, you may ask another pair for aid in preparing something. If you have any more questions, you may ask them when we call you into the back room to assign you your partners."

Upon saying this, Rao gestured to the door next to small, but cozy, projector room meant to display images on a folding screen positioned at the front of the hall. "We will call you into the room eventually, so just wait your turn. Thank you for your attention." Rao hurriedly left the stage, disappearing back to the Hope's Peak admin building and presumably never seen again.

"Pairs, hmm?" Kazuichi thought out loud.

"I hope you've been matched with someone agreeable, Young Master." Peko chirped from beside Fuyuhiko.

"Peko what did we mention?"

"Ah, apologies Youn-"

"Don't say it."

Kazuichi glanced across at the class sitting across from him. Perhaps he had grown used to how odd his class way, but something about Class 78 seemed exceptionally _weird_. As he sat, pensive in thought, the voice of Chisa broke the silence. "First up here we have..." she tapped the clipboard held in her hands with the end of her pen. "Togami and… Togami." A tall, thin boy stood up from the chairs in Class 78. He was the spitting image of the Byakuya Togami from Kazuichi's own class. Except for many, many stone thinner. It was obvious why they were paired together, as they were the exact same person.

"Ummm… who's the original?" Ibuki asked, tapping Akane on the shoulder, who just shrugged. They both walked into the projector room, the slimmer of the two glaring at the other with a bitter scowl at the other, still wearing the same scowl after five minutes, when they walked out of the room except his brow seem to be contorted in a rage the likes of which Kazuichi hadn't seen in even in someone like Fuyuhiko. While Class 77's Togami seemed eager to tell his classmates about his other self, the Class 78 Togami dragged him along, spitting insults and derogatory comments at his counterpart. "What dark magic must have Togami performed to allow himself a slimmer, more handsome doppelganger?!"

"If people like richboy are who we'll have to work with, I'd rather take my chances with our class whore!"

"Now, Hiyoko, remember what I said about your attitude."

"Sorry, Mahiru..."

Perhaps that conversation had disillusioned Kazuichi slightly, but he suddenly felt as if spending a few weeks with a complete stranger could be a nice change of pace. Half of his class were psychotic, and the other half (himself included) were complete oddballs. While he somewhat doubted Class 78 were any better, at least it would be a different brand of completely insane. And then he heard his name called out.

"Next up," Chisa once again called from the projector room "Souda, Nanami, and Fujisaki."

Kazuichi looked behind him to see Nagito flashing Chiaki a thumbs up, and then across to him to see a student with a cartoonish pompadour ruffling a small girl's choppy, brown hair and the loud student who had asked Rao a question before patting her supportively on the shoulder, as the girl blushed and a smile played across her lips. Soda got up and walked to the projector room with Chiaki.

The projector room was fairly small, and three chairs sat in the center of its whitewashed walls, and Chisa was already sat on one of them. The girl from Class 78 entered the room, slowly opening the door, and Kazuchi noticed some of his class watching them the small window in the room, Miss Sonia included. Wanting to impress her, he offered the petite girl his seat.

"O-oh! Umm.. thanks!" Clearly flustered, Chihiro moved to take his seat, annoyed at how embarrassed he looked. He looked at the two people in front of him. One of them was a girl, fairly short but still taller than him, dressed in a white shirt, covered by a teal cardigan, with pink-ish hair and eyes. She looked like she was going to fall asleep. The other was a boy dressed… well, "brightly" was the only way to describe it, his yellow outfit and pink hair really drew your attention. The woman at the front of the room – Chisa, was it? Began to speak. "Chihiro, due to the fact your talent could work with both of these two – the Ultimate Mechanic and Ultimate Gamer – we're giving you a choice."

Kazuichi knew he wasn't going to get partnered with Chihiro. She was shy, quiet and feminine. It would make sense to partner up with Chiaki, who shared these traits to a certain extent. So what she said next made little to no sense to him. "I'd, uh, like to partner with Kazuichi, if that's okay with him."

"Well, Kazuichi?" Chisa implored. Kazuichi was slightly shocked. He hadn't expected this, but he supposed he had to accept or risk being partnered with someone slightly more... unhinged than the meek and gentle soul sat in front of him. "Yeah, sure."

"That's that settled, then. You two have the rest of term to finish this project. When you're finished and ready to present it, come tell me. I'll get everything set up, as a housekeeper should do. Thank you for your time and, Chiaki, please wake up." Chiaki just sat there snoring. Chisa let out an audible sigh. "You two go… I'll deal with this sleepyhead. Don't hang around, you're gonna wanna get started pretty quickly." Chihiro stood up, thanked Chisa and made for the door as Kazuichi held it ajar.

The two walked back into the hall and began to make a beeline for the exit. Kazuichi gazed over at Miss Sonia and flashed her a winning smile. He then looked over at Class 78. The boy with the large pompadour, Mondo, was glaring at him. He had seen that glare before. It was the look often given to his own father when he was tending to bikes back homes. It was a look that said, "even a dent on my ride and you won't forget it." Mondo, being a biker himself, had probably shot that look at many a person before, but this time Kazuichi knew he meant he was worried about something other than his bike. He had seen how he and Kiyotaka acted protective of Chihiro and knew that if he fucked this up, he would gain a few more "dents" himself. The made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight. He scratched his nape, and the two walked through the door.

"So, uh, I n-never introduced myself. I'm Chihiro Fujisaki. Nice to meet you."

Kazuichi was momentarily lost in thought, but Chihiro's voice snapped him back to reality. Kazuichi looked down at her. She looked delicate, like a machine with too many fragile parts. "Kazuichi Souda. Nice to meetcha!" He extended his hand for Chihiro to shake. She clasped it lightly and shook it, still smiling. Kazuichi wasn't used to being treated like this by someone cute. He remembered when he first changed his appearance, he actually started to have attractive girls hit on him, and that was intimidating. Perhaps it's odd a handshake made him recall this, he thought.

"So, umm… do you have a place where we can work?"

"Yeah, actually. But it's a bit rundown because I'm the only one who's touched it in ages… Come on."

Kazuichi flipped a cold metal switch that turned on the fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling. They illuminated the equipment strewn around the room. Large steel desks, five in total, were arranged in a semi-rectangle around the perimeter. Wires of every kind and colour lined the floor, some leaving exposed copper that Kazuichi really should've cleaned up. Plug sockets were in every corner of the room, in order to power the multitude of tools Kazuichi used every day. Kazuichi breathed in, enjoying this room with its dark grey walls and black floors. Whenever he felt out of his depth in Hope's Peak, he just came here. It was comforting to just be alone, surrounded by the tools and trinkets he so loved to fidget with. He was getting skittish just thinking about them. What home he felt was not gained in Hope's Peak proper, he felt was gained here. "What is this place, Kazuichi?" Chihiro gazed around the room.

"Oh, this place was originally intended to be used by students with talents with mine. Pretty sure the Ultimate Blacksmith and Ultimate Builder worked here years ago. It's just me working in here unless people like Hajime, Fuyuhiko, Ibuki and the others decide to drop by to tell me to stop working and get outside. I learned my lesson when Peko dragged me out by the scruff of my neck because I spent 2 days without sleep trying to supercharge a lawnmower..."

Chihiro put her fingers to her lithe lips. "I remember when I first really got into programming. I would just spend days in my room writing odd programs that worked but didn't really help. Eventually, my parents came in to chastise me..."

"Huh, your parents actually _cared_ about you? Lucky bastard. But why'd they only come in after a few days? That lonely, huh?"

"Uh, y-yeah… s-something like that." Small tears had begun to form in the corners of her eyes.

"H-hey! Don't cry!' Kazuichi's voice began to crack.

"S-sorry... *hic*" Chihiro sobbed.

"There's… no need to apologize."

"Yeah… I know."

"Okay, now the waterworks are done with, let's get down to business. We need to make something that involves our talents right? Something that fuses machinery and programming. While I may be a mechanic, I've spent enough time tinkering with odds and ends to know I could also build something useful, not just maintain or repair it. There's also the fact an inventor doesn't exist in this universe an inventor doesn't exist, so I'll have to take that role."

"Well, what exactly can we make that combines the two?"

"I dunno, what can you make with your programs?"

"Quite a few things… simple, one-function programs I can write in maybe… an hour or so. "But I have had some success with some simple self-learning AIs. The problem there is they could take a day to program if I were working at top speed, and they'd take a lot of power to create, but maybe not to store."

"What do you mean simple…?" Kazuichi once again scratched the back of his neck.

"Ummm… well, they could perform household tasks, or perhaps jobs involving pure logic, such as accounting or even computing, but maybe not complex stuff like jobs involving morals, like… lawyers, or politicians."

"Those last two jobs you mentioned don't really involve morals, but okay."

"O-oh! Did-" The words caught in Chihiro's throat. He knew Kazuichi was joking, but as with anything he was so scared of saying something wrong and wanted to appeal greatly to someone who he was working on a project with, that he instinctively asked what asked normally when a person corrected him or looked annoyed: 'Did I do something wrong?' and so he quickly followed up with:

"Never mind, I know you were joking. Sor-"

"Don't!"

"Wh-what did I do this time?" Chihiro was taken aback, worried what he said was stupid. He could already feel the hot teardrops running down his cheeks, as he so often did nowadays and his hands were clutching the bows of his ribbon. Kazuichi squatted down and spoke. "Look, I was just gonna say you don't need to apologize. I'm sorry for making you cry, alright?" His tone was slightly annoyed, but there was a genuine attempt at comfort there. "But if we keep talking about ourselves and not about the project, we're never gonna get anywhere. So please, just try and stay strong. Here."

He reached out with a small cloth he had produced from one of his jumpsuit pockets. Chihiro grabbed it and began to dry his eyes. He a while, Kazuichi just stayed there, grasping Chihiro's shoulder and holding his wrist. But Chihiro was not focused on that comforting action. Nor did he recognize when Kazuichi pulled away in embarrassment muttering something about what Miss Sonia would think. He just heard those words he had said before. "Stay strong." It had long been a goal of his. One only Mondo had known of for some time, that being the strength he wished to gain in order to feel he could reveal his secret: his true gender. It was reassuring to know that the person he would spend the next few weeks with was like him in many ways and also seemed to care about him in a Mondo-esque sort of way, but Chihiro couldn't shake the feeling that was simply because he didn't know what he preferred to keep to himself. "You're pathetic." "Just be a man." "That's really fucking weird." Chihiro imagined all the venomous comments someone could throw at him if they were armed with that information, and once again felt the tears roll down his cheeks, clutching the cloth ever tighter. Kazuichi couldn't know the truth, no matter how friendly they became. And as he thought that, once again Kazuichi came to his side to comfort him.

Kazuichi had never known a nervous wreck bigger than Chihiro, apart from maybe his past self. Maybe that was the reason he felt pity rather than annoyance when he cried, some part of what he once was lived within this small girl. Well, there was still _some_ annoyance. He pulled out a chair and let the poor kid sit down. He then rooted around one of the cold, metal cabinets positioned near the drawer for what he was looking for. Eventually, he found the roll of blueprint paper he was looking for and pulled up a chair next to Chihiro. "You okay now?" he inquired.

"Y-yeah."

"Right, so I was thinking about what you were saying before about the mundane tasks your programs could perform and remembered how, when I used to work in the bike shop, all the boring housework I had to perform because my parents were out there busting their backs trying to keep our heads above water. I just wanted to tinker around and mess with all the mechanisms in my dad's shop. I'm sure the rest of us with talents that take up time and effort would rather all of our energy went into them, right?"

"Yeah, I've always felt most comfortable programming and doing not much else. If I could remove other tasks and chores from my schedule, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

"So I've designed this." Kazuichi tapped the blueprint, showing the design he had scrawled out on the blueprint.

"So first up, I've designed these." He pointed to the small eyes, which were small camera-lens like buttons, with a tangle of wires drawn in behind them. "Could you hook up a system that allows these to recognize the objects the robots need to perform actions on?"

"There are few open-source algorithms that can recognize objects, and while they're not one hundred percent, I'm sure I could insert them into a part of the program that controls the eyes if you connect it to a motherboard. I could make it fairly small, like these specifications."

"...could you do the same with the arms?" Kazuichi asked, gesturing towards the small, tube-like arms he had drawn in, looking like bionics ripped straight from 1984.

"If I could coordinate the string connecting the arms and eyes to work together… then the self-learning part could take care of the rest."

"You're speaking gibberish in parts of that, but I get what you're saying. Why don't we work on the prototype tonight?"

"Tonight?" Chihiro looked at the clock. It was about 4pm.

"Well, you mentioned you pulled all-nighters when you're programming right? Just try and get comfortable."

"Well… that was when I was alone… no offense."

"Just pretend I'm not there. I know it'll be hard when I'm dressed like this, but..."

"I-I'll try."

"Meet you back here by 6?"

"Uhh… sure."

And with that, they both went their separate ways, going to get prepared for the build and talk to their friends about what had transpired that day, for all of them.


	3. Project 1, Part 2

Assignment 1,

Part 2

Chihiro began to walk back to his room. As he entered the building, he felt a hand grab his neck and drag him close and begin to ruffle his hair. "Heya, kid," Mondo said, his hand still dragging through his hair.

"Hey, Chihiro!" Kiyotaka yelled in his usual loud voice, his wide grin seeming to stretch past what was humanly possible.

"HI THERE! THE NAME'S NEKOMARU NIDAI!" A gargantuan voice belonging to an equally colossal man rang throughout the hall.

"O-oh my. Ummm, hello. My name's Chihiro Fujisaki. That's quite an introduction."

"Yeah. I like to make impressions, y'know?" Nekomaru said, arms folded and eyes closed.

"My bro and Nekomaru hit it off the moment they met. You can tell why."

The two were certainly enthusiastic, Chihiro thought. Nekomaru was the Ultimate Team Manager, and clearly reflected Kiyotaka's love to take point and lead a group. No wonder the two were close, they were almost carbon copies of one another.

"So, where's your partner, Mondo?" Chihiro asked.

"Ugh, I got put with Fuyuhiko. That fuckin' brat could use a beatdown, giving me lip like that."

"I'm sure he's not _that_ bad, Mondo."

"You're way too soft, kid."

"C'mon bro, why can't you just get along with people!"

"YEAH! Co-ordination is the key to success in any team!"

"I swear if I stay here any longer my fucking eardrums will burst." Mondo began to turn tail and walk away.

"Bro! Wait!" Kiyotaka bellowed and began to run after him.

"Aren't you going after them, Nekomaru?"

Nekomaru glared down at him, his massive stature would almost be intimidating if it weren't for the grin on his face, ever-present and always friendly.

"Sometimes the best way to keep a team moving forward is to let 'em sort it out themselves. Anyway, how's Kazuichi?"

"He's nice. He's kind to me, and also kinda emotional. It's quite sweet, actually."

"Huh, I didn't think he'd be like that to someone he just met."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Chihiro began to feel slightly hot under the collar.

"I think something happened to him a while ago. He just doesn't get along with strangers, but I suppose he's friendlier to a cuter fac- HEY! Kiyotaka was running away from Mondo, who was chasing after him with a wrench while screaming, "Get back here bro! I'm gonna fucking beat you up!" "Sorry, bro! I don't like the idea of that!"

"C-could you two please get back here! I need my wrench, dammit!" A familiar voice rang out down the hallway... "Agh! Forget it..." and slowly fades away.

"YOU TWO SHITS HAD BETTER NOT BE TRYING TO KILL ONE ANOTHER!" Yelled Nekomaru thundered back down the hallway as Chihiro began to giggle. "Ehehehe..." He was happy to see his friends all together. He also hoped Fuyuhiko and Mondo would patch things up, considering he was a friend of Kazuichi. He continued walking down the halls, his footsteps echoing as he went.

Kazuichi slammed shut his door. What was that just now? He was down a wrench, thanks to Chihiro's friends. Ugh, what a mess. He tolerated Chihiro because he felt awful about his tears, mainly because it reminded him of him. He sighed and took in his surroundings. Hope's Peak accommodation was as lavish as one would expect. A double bed sat in the center of a large room, directly next to a sizable bedside cabinet which would've sported a mechanical alarm clock had Kazuichi not had deconstructed it and not bothered to put it back before the calendar year ended. A bathroom was located behind a folding-screen door and had all the faculties expected, but seemingly more pristine. Large glass panes stretched around the room, even going over the corners. Kazuichi had also managed to sneak in enough components to rebuild a TV over a few months and had dragged the sofas and table, normally positioned at a small square-shaped alcove near the folding-screen bathroom door, as well as the chairs that were positioned in the corner of the room and moved them in front of the TV. He remembered the Halloween party he held, just watching awful Halloween movies with the rest of Class 77. All to impress Miss Sonia of course. God, he owed a lot to them and their helping him get over his "issues," though this whole thing with Class 78 was starting to make him reconsider that decision. The whole wrench issue still pissed him off. He sighed and laid down on his bed, and rubbed his eyes, knowing he had a long night ahead of him.

Chihiro sat down at the desk at the back of the room, which had his laptop on it. He sat and checked the time. 4:25pm. Another hour and thirty-five minutes before he had to meet with Kazuichi. He sat down and thought about the whole assignment thing. He knew from the start picking Kazuichi was a risk, after all, an assignment designed to cause as little problems and hassle as possible meant that an opposite gender pairing was a wrench in the works – well as far as the academy and all but Mondo were concerned it was "opposite gender."

He sighed, once against feeling that pit in his stomach as he thought about someone discovering his secret. Kazuichi didn't really understand why Chihiro kept himself in his room – and Chihiro would rather it stayed that way. Did his love of programming play a part? Of course, it did. Chihiro loved programming and thought it was actually super cool that he had someone that could take his programming ability and amplify it in their own way – especially someone who had a shared passion for technology. But he limited interaction with others mostly out of fear, only feeling natural around Mondo, because he was the only one that knew. The fewer people saw of him, the less chance someone had to find out. And if that person happened to be Kazuichi… he was worried he'd have to work with someone who would either give him the cold shoulder or just ridicule him. He could feel the tears and self-loathing take hold again and noticed once again he was clutching the rag Kazuichi had given him. He hadn't let go of it since he had left the workshop. He looked at it and thought that someone like Kazuchi, a boy more versed in machines than human nature, someone who perhaps had become more used to the touch of metal and rubber than flesh, had given him something used to clean machines that needed attention – perhaps they were damaged or needed attention, perhaps they were even prized and needed some care and began to feel warm inside. Intentional or not, he was happy to receive such a token of friendship from someone he had just met. Drying his eyes, he began to psyche himself up for the night ahead.

The clocks in Hope's Peak struck six, except the jumbled mess of wires and plastic in a mechanic's room. The sun dipped ever slower and the air grew colder. And then a voice called out.

"Wow, you actually showed up!" Kazuichi teased, with a grin.

"O-of course. We're supposed to work together, aren't we?"  
"Heh, it's nothing. Normally don't have a high success of getting girls to meet with me. One in particular, heh heh heh..." Kazuichi's mind flashed back to the graceful form of Miss Sonia, but it didn't seem as clear as usual. 'That's weird,' Kazuichi thought. He kept an image of the princess in his mind at all times, but it had begun to grow cloudy.

"K-kazuichi?" Chihiro was tugging his sleeve. Kazuichi instinctively yanked his hand away.

"C-can you NOT do that?!"

"I'm so-"

"If you apologize for little things you don't _need_ to apologize for this assignment, I'm calling the whole thing off," Kazuichi said, slightly annoyed at the endearing nature of Chihiro, always seeming to think she had done something wrong.

"Okay..."

Kazuichi unlocked the door to the workshop. "Well… let's get this party started!" He flipped the light switch and hung his beanie on the coat hooks above the blueprint paper cabinet.

Chihiro wandered over the desk that wasn't too high off the ground and plopped himself on the chair. As he produced his laptop from the satchel he was carrying, he saw Kazuichi's eyes light up. "Wow! This is yours?!" He snatched the laptop from Chihiro's hands and ogled over every corner, every nook and every cranny. He was about to whip out his screwdriver and begin taking it apart when the shock on Chihiro's face finally hit him. "Oh, God. What am I doing? Sorry about that. I just… can't help it sometimes. That thing is a masterpiece, and my brain just… y'know."

"It's fine. It's nice to see someone so passionate about their talent… I thought I was really the only one so at home with technology, eheheh…"

Chihiro let out a small giggle, which made Kazuichi suddenly feel slightly skittish. He found himself eager to get on with the project, and also slightly embarrassed. It was cute, sure, but it wasn't Miss Sonia, he reminded himself. He turned to his work desk to see his toolbox missing and a note there.

"Apologies Mr. Souda, we've had to borrow your toolkit for a while. If you want it, just come to the cafeteria. - Hifumi Yamada & Teruteru Hanamura"

"What the hell?! How'd they get into a **locked** room?!"

"What's wrong, Kazuichi?" Chihiro looked as if she had already begun to program her work. She must've planned it out in advance, Kazuichi thought.

"Oh, one of your friends from your class and one of mine managed to break into this room when it was **LOCKED!** " Kazuichi screeched.

"Oh, Hifumi has a way of getting into locked rooms."

"Why do you say that so casually?! Ugh, gimme a few minutes."

Kazuichi stepped out into the cold, winter evening, and began to make his way back to the main building. On the way there, he heard an odd yell from the small area of woods near the main building, that sounded like a mixture of a small child being slaughtered and Germanic yodeling. His blood froze colder than the frigid air around him. A large amount of mic feedback suddenly rung through his ears and he pulled his beanie down over them, tears of pain in his eyes. Was that… singing? He began to walk towards the cacophony of unholy sounds, only to find Ibuki and a ginger-haired student he recognized from Class 78 together.

"Geez, can you turn it down?!" He yelled. However, it was pointless. Ibuki was completely engrossed in her music, even if it did violate multiple clauses in the Geneva convention and several rights he felt he was endowed, namely his aural virginity. He stumbled away from the hellish soundscape of the woods and slammed the doors of the main building behind him, gasping for breath. He shook his head and made his way to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was mostly abandoned. Polished tables, leather seats, and rustic and relaxing scenery made it quite a nice place to just hang around. Through the large, multi-paned glass window that covered most of the northern wall, waves of moonlight splashed through in the room, bringing a sense of tranquility and peace into the room. But tonight, no-one was there, apart from the two working in the kitchen at the back. "Hey! You two! Gimme my damn toolbox back!"

"Ah, Mr. Souda." A rather rotund boy adjusted his glasses and turned to speak to him.

"'Sup, Kazuichi?" Teruteru gave him a jovial wave. "Here for this?" He held out the toolbox in question to Kazuichi, and Kazuichi immediately wrenched it from his grasp. Rifling through his toolbox, he felt a comforting familiarity and proceeded to ask "So, what'd you need it for, anyway?" He pulled out his pliers and noticed something on the head. It was gristly and viscous, but also slippery. "Is this… bacon grease?! How'd the hell that get on my pliers?!"

"Well… one must break the conventions of the art of cookery from time to time..." Teruteru replied, running through his hair with a comb.

"That doesn't mean you can use my tools without permission!" Kazuichi pointed at the both of them accusingly.

"W-well..."

"Never mind, I don't wanna hear it!" Kazuichi turned on his heel and went to leave the kitchen when Hifumi interrupted.

"Mr. Souda?' Kazuichi gritted his teeth. He didn't want to talk to this guy.

"Yeah..?"

"I can't help but notice you've been matched with Miss Fujisaki," Hifumi said, adjusting his glasses and giving off immense amounts of sexual energy, so much so that Kazuichi was nauseated.

"Uh… yeah."

"I see, I see. Quite the fine specimen, wouldn't you agree?" Another wave of sexual energy reverberated around the room.

"They're… not a fast bike or expensive car, Hifumi. They're a person."

"Yes, yes, of course. But what I'm trying to say is this could be your golden opportunity, or it could be mine."

"Please tell me you're not saying what I think you're saying. I have Miss Sonia, I don't need anyone else!"

"But does 'Miss Sonia' have those petite features? Those tiny yet beautiful hands? Those sweet innocent eyes? Those slender legs? That smile that could melt even the coldest heart? Tho-" But Kazuichi had already slammed the kitchen door behind him, not wanting to hear another word of that damn spiel.

Kazuichi once again stepped into the cold night air and breathed in. The fresh air filled his lungs and he felt revitalized after the awkward conversation he had with Hifumi. His night was about to get better, for as he walked back to the workshop, he spotted a familiar face. "Miss Sonia! Miss Sonia!" Kazuichi cried out, suddenly feeling as if the entire night up to this point was completely worth it. And then another familiar face appeared and that happiness was shattered. "Kazuichi! What's wrong? Your face looks as if you have seen a foul beast straight from the embers of hell!" Gundham has a special way of ruining his mood whenever he was around Miss Sonia. Why did he and his fancy tongue have to go around with _his_ girl? "Hey, Miss Sonia! Hi, Gundham..."

"Oh hello, Kazuichi! Gundham was just telling me how going on a nighttime stroll could increase your affinity with the Sixth Lord of Ice, so I decided in order to become the Queen of the Frozen Hellscape I should come with him."

"Miss Sonia, why do you listen to him?"  
"Quiet, insolent swine! You dare doubt the next Queen of the Frozen Wastes?" Sonia suddenly snapped at him. Kazuichi began to salivate and his heart began to pound. His eyes gleamed in the silver moonlight.

"Could you please repeat that, Miss Sonia? I didn't hear you the first time..." Kazuichi's eyes began to glaze over.

"I _said_ , quiet insolent swine!" Kazuichi bit his tongue to stop himself from letting out a moan of ecstasy.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to your project, Kazuichi?" Gundham once again broke found a way to ruin Kazuichi's moments of pleasure.

"C-can't I just stay with you guys..?" Kazuichi whinged. He would come along with Gundham if it meant more time with Miss Sonia.

"Don't you have a project you need to be getting on with?"

"Oh- oh yeah." Kazuichi felt a bit guilty. Of course, he wanted to hang out with Miss Sonia, but he also felt incredibly guilty about leaving Chihiro alone in the workshop. Especially if Hifumi could pick locks… Bad thought, bad thought! "Well, goodbye, Miss Sonia!" Kazuichi yelled as he walked away from the pair.

Kazuichi slid open the door. Chihiro sat hunched over at the desk, typing away in a frenzy. Kazuichi silently crept over to her and leaned in. She was typing incredibly quick, and although the words appearing on the screen made no sense to Kazuichi he was incredibly impressed. Every keystroke seemed deliberate, every new line of code appearing on the screen placed with seemingly meticulous care. Her hands were dancing across the keyboard, moving from key to key as a pianist would play the piano. Her eyes reflected the screen and the words quickly appearing upon it, her lips in a pout as each new command was entered, her lithe fingers touching her thin lips when she paused for a brief thought before beginning to type once again. Kazuichi was amazed. Her passion and confidence when she was in this state were unlike anything he'd seen from her. He felt a grin spread across his face when he once again thought about someone who had a love for technology like his, glad to find someone of like-mind. When he tapped her shoulder, even though his touch was deliberately as light as a feather, the confidence he had seen from her shattered as she let out a meek and frightened scream.

"WAH! H-hey! Why'd you scream?! It's only me!"

"Oh, um, sorry. I-I didn't know it was you, Kazuichi… How long were you standing there?"

"A few minutes. Long enough to realize… you're impressive." As he said this, Kazuichi flashed a thumbs up.

"I-Impressive? I… uh…" Chihiro's face flushed red and her hands clasped around one another. "Th-thanks."

"Don't mention it. Anyway, I'll start working. Oh, actually..."

Kazuichi made his way to the cabinet where the blueprint paper was, hung his beanie up and rummaged through the bottom drawer, producing two of the many, many cans of off-brand cola he kept in there. He made his way back over to Chihiro, who had resumed typing away, and put a can down on the desk next to him. "Drink up if you feel tired, okay?"

"Mmm-hmm," Chihiro said, not looking away from the screen of her laptop. Kazuichi sighed, and walked over to his workstation, looked at the blueprint and began to get to work.

After a few hours, Chihiro pulled his eyes away from the screen. The clock in the corner of the screen read 12:18 pm. He yawned, feeling slightly sleepy. He remembered the soda Souda had put down next him. He felt the aluminum can dripping with condensation and looked over at Souda, still working away. A small, rectangular robot head – looking like a stereotypical clockwork toy's – sat on the table next to him, with wires dangling from the bottom of the neck, meant to attach to the body which Kazuichi was constructing currently. And when Chihiro looked at the boy constructing the body, he gasped. Kazuichi had unzipped the top half of his jumpsuit, leaving the sleeves wrapped around his waist in a neat knot, one sleeve drooping slightly lower than the other. He may have looked slightly odd and very eccentric with his jumpsuit, but with it off he looked rather serious and masculine. His arms – which looked lanky and almost out of place normally – now moved with poise and intent, picking up tools and adjusting nuts and bolts, acting as if machines within their own right. A fire was lit in his eyes, seemingly trapped within the neon pink contact lenses he wore. It almost shone in his unkempt, tousled hair. A massive grin that gave off both happiness and confidence seemed to spread wider across his face that seemed to grow with every swing or tap of the hammer, every twist of the screwdriver. And Chihiro felt something he hadn't felt since he'd seen Mondo for the first time. He saw Kazuichi as masculine and confident. His usually exuberant personality and aura were instead replaced by a calm coolness and reserved confidence. He knew he was good at what he was doing – and was happy to do it. Chihiro had long wished to embody this in his work, but he never truly felt he could. His shyness and good nature mistook his confidence for ego, and so he tried to put the passion he had for his work into productivity, making sure he never looked too excited or proud doing it. He didn't know he already reflected this confidence and pride in the good-natured way he intended, mainly because no-one was ever really around to witness him working. But Kazuichi had witnessed this display of pride firsthand and saw within Chihiro almost a different side. An alter ego, as it were. And so, Chihiro sat there, wishing himself to be more like Mondo or Kazuichi, truly a man others could accept as so. And as he sat there, admiring Kazuichi's manliness and loathing himself, his eyelids began to droop, and his grip loosened on the can of cola in his hands until finally his head drooped low and his hands slackened, hitting the desk with a muted thump, and sleep took hold.


	4. Project 1, Part 3

Assignment 1,

Part 3

Chihiro woke with a start. He hadn't finished the program yet! But… this wasn't the workshop. The blinds were drawn around the windows in his room and sunlight was trying to crawl its way through, but he was sure he hadn't left them like that. His laptop, charger plugged in, was still left on the same unfinished line of code that he remembered typing last night. There was also a large cardboard box, top taped, on the desk next to the laptop, as well as a note. Chihiro rubbed his eyes, let out a stifled yawn and clambered out of his bed. He was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, skirt, tights and all. The note left on the desk read:

"I told you to drink that soda, man. It's off brand for a reason, no company would allow that sugar content with getting assblasted by the media. Anyway, I left the completed prototype in that box I hopefully put down and added a few notes to explain what it does, and what you need to do. And if your first instinct after reading this is to come and apologize to me for _falling asleep_ , just… don't. And if you're wondering how you got back to your room, I was the only one in the workshop when you started to snooze. Put two and two together.

-Kazuichi"

Chihiro blushed upon reading that last line. If Kazuichi had carried him back to his room, could he have felt his..? Chihiro quickly put that thought out of his mind and opened the box. Inside was quite a large robot, almost knee height with Chihiro. Kazuichi had fully embraced the toy robot design, right down to the rectangular mouth. It had a large hinged panel on the back, labeled 'CPU AND MOTHERBOARD HERE." The panel was designed to Chihiro's specifications, just large enough to fit in the components he had ordered. A small, sliding, tray-like panel extended from the top chest of the robot, both forwards and backward. It was coated with a sticky material. Another note lay on the compartment. "I decided we'd need more than one bot if a task is too high for just a single one to complete. The bots' arms can out this tray and climb onto it the resin and acetate compound makes sure they'll be able to stick onto it and stack to complete their task, but they'll also be able to dismount on their own. And Mikan's checked, the compound won't poison ya."

Kazuichi really had thought of everything, and although it created more work for Chihiro, he found himself not really caring. He was about to sit down and get to work when he heard a hard knock at his door.

"Oh, hello Mondo."

"Hey, you're awake. I take it you read the notes your friend left you?"

"Yeah. Wait, how'd you know about those?"

"He came knocking at my door early this morning. Seemed pissed. Turns out I hadn't returned that wrench of his… Anyway, when I was about to slam the door in his face, he softened up a bit and asked me to check on you. Man, you've got lucky you got a softie like that to do your project with you."

"Mondo..."

"If you got paired with an asshole I'd make sure he'd get beat to a fucking pulp before he'd lay a finger on you."

"Mondo!"

"Jeez, that was unusually aggressive. Whaddya want?"

"It's fine, honestly. The project's going well."

"You sure? The ass beating's still on the table."

"Seriously, cut it out! It's fine!"

"Tch. Better than how it's going for me, at least. I and that little yakuza shit haven't talked since day one."

"Well… maybe you should try talking to him?"  
"Yeah, right. Well, see you around." And with that, Mondo took his leave. Chihiro sat down at his desk and began to type.

"Well, at least you guys get a whole term to just do _something_. God, the reserve course is just mind-numbing right now." Hajime Hinata sat, dejected, on one of the chairs Kazuichi had set up in front of the TV.

"Yeah well in my case, _something_ just means nothing, because that biker punk thinks he can talk down to me because he's a foot taller. Who the fuck does he think he is?!" Fuyuhiko punched down on the arm of his chair, with as much force as his small body could muster.

"...I called you both here so we could watch a movie, not have a group therapy session..." Kazuichi was glad to have some time to unwind, especially after what he did last night. When he thought about carrying the frail form of his assignment partner back to her room, his mouth began to feel dry and coarse, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. He could put down this, and his pounding heartbeat, down to the anxiety he felt when thinking if Miss Sonia would have seen him. What would she have thought? That thought nearly caused a migraine whenever it popped into his head. Yeah, he definitely needed some time to relax, something to keep himself occupied. Without realizing it, he had produced odds and ends from his pockets and had begun to fidget with them, his fingers twirling around cables and stringing small wires together. He quickly jammed them back in his pockets and cleared his throat. "Well, I invited you both here so we could watch bad movies, and we've not done that yet. Let's get started, okay?"

"Whatever you say."

Hajime and Fuyuhiko left just as the winter sun began to set. They had watched some pretty garbage films, but it was an enjoyable experience. They laughed, sighed and shared stories. And by stories, it was mostly just Hajime complaining about how-how much he regretted every single life decision he had ever made and forced his parents to make since he crawled out the womb, leading him to question whether a vasectomy would save his future and Kazuichi skirting around the topic of Chihiro whenever it came up. Kazuichi popped open a can of soda and stared into the mellow orange circle beginning to fall slowly beneath the now dark trees (hardly trees, more sticks) and sighed a sigh of deep content. Just hanging out with his two good friends had made him feel at ease. So when he heard a small knock on the door he knew his tranquil moment was about to be shattered.

"Kazuichi! I did it, it's complete!" Chihiro had a beaming smile on her face and was sweating bullets trying to carry around the cardboard box that contained the robot. Kazuichi lifted the box from her dainty arms and slowly put it down on his floor. He lifted the toy-like machine from the box and set it down on the floor. Chihiro crouched down and put her clenched fists to her cheeks, mouth bent into a small 'U' and eyes bright. "The machine learning AI should increase its proficiency at performing tasks, but I've already programmed a routine schedule that can perform most household tasks, except things like vacuuming, 'cause it's too short for just one bot. Turn it on and put a plate in front of it, it should determine what to do with it." Chihiro explained the ins-and-outs of what his program did and Kazuichi grabbed an unclean plate from his desk. It was what remained of his spaghetti, the rest of which he could only assume would find its way into his pockets to fall out at a later time. Maybe in front of Miss Sonia.

"Well, here goes." Kazuichi pressed down on a button and watched as the machine sprung to life. He watched at the lenses that formed its eyes adjusted and it began to make whirring noises and Kazuichi held the plate in front of the robot's eyes and almost immediately, the robot used it's 1984-bionic-esque arms to grab the plate and made its way to the counters lining the west perimeter of the room and began to try and reach the sink. "It's, uh… stuck." Chihiro observed.

"I noticed." Kazuichi picked up the robot and put it on the countertop, where it continued its path to the sink. It proceeded to turn on tap, pick up a sponge and wash the plate. It then proceeded to survey the rest of the room, saw there was no other task to complete and shut down.

"Well, it wasn't the flashiest thing ever, but it worked! Hey, that's pretty good for two days' work. Imagine what we could do with the rest of term! Hell, we could probably turn these things from housemaids to a workforce given the time!" Kazuichi was just happy his work had paid off.

"Yeah! Now I've got the basic outline and skeleton for my code, I can easily replicate the AI, I'll get on ordering more CPUs and motherboards. Thinking about it, this could be a huge market. The elderly and disabled could really use technology like this, and if we hold a monopoly on it we can make sure it can reach them easily and cheaply! It kinda seemed like innocuous tech at first... but this could be something big!" And upon saying that, Chihiro wrapped his arms around Kazuichi's waist and pulled him in for a hug.

Kazuichi nearly screamed, and that odd feeling set in again. His ears felt red hot, and he could feel the rush of blood to his cheeks. His mouth felt like a desert and… was that his heart? He could hear it beating like a drum. What would Miss Sonia think of this? Chihiro pulled away and looked at Kazuichi, clearly flustered. "Um, are you okay Kazuichi? You look kinda pale."

"Y- yeah. I-I'm fine!"

"It's kinda funny when I first saw you, I thought you'd be like a… what's the word? Ummm… a tough guy? But you're kinda soft. N-not that that's a bad thing! It's actually nice and, uh-"

"Yeah, yeah. I get that a lot. I'm not that willing to explain it… but what I can say is that this whole delinquent thing… It's just a facade. An act, and honestly… I-I dunno why I keep it up anymore. I guess it's just a part of me." Kazuichi once again gazed into the sun, only a tiny part of it now visible, slightly cooling the air. "Gah, what am I doing? You just hugged me and talked philanthropy and I just dumped a bunch of my problems onto you. What you even know about putting on an act for your whole life? I understand if you wanna go now, heh..." Kazuichi ended his whole spiel with a weak laugh and heavy sigh.

Chihiro shut the door quietly behind him. He knew Kazuichi didn't want him there. But what he said… that whole thing about putting on an act, about being someone else… it resonated with him. Once again that fire was lit within him, he really wanted to walk back in that room and admit his secret, ask Kazuichi for help with his predicament… but he couldn't. He punched the wall just next to the door and recoiled at how much he hurt his knuckles. Why did that have to hurt so much? Why was he so weak? Once again he felt that self-loathing creep up his body and take hold. He felt the magma-hot tears once again fall down his face and those ugly, stilted gasps escape his mouth.

"...Did I say something wrong?" Chihiro hadn't heard the door opening behind him over his hiccuping. Kazuichi looked slightly worried and guilty, probably wondering if he had made Chihiro cry.

"N-No… i-it's just… *hic* could I come into y-your r-room? There's something I've b-been meaning to t-t-tell you." Kazuichi looked flustered again at this request.

"Ummm… okay then…" He gestured to Chihiro to enter again.

"So what was it you wanted to talk about, exactly?" Kazuichi couldn't shake the pit in his stomach. "I-I uh… there's not really an easy way to say this..." Chihiro was suddenly interested in everything else in the room but Kazuichi.

"Look, just say it."

"Look, I don't know how you'll react to this… but I think I can trust you..."

"Just say it, dammit!"

"I-I'm a boy!" Chihiro had his eyes shut as if he was expecting to be backhanded.

"C-come again?!" Kazuichi was worried the look of shock and agape mouth may _slightly_ hurt he- him. It- it was him.

"I'm a guy!"

"What the hell?! Are you sure?! Like, one hundred percent?!" Kazuichi tried to downplay his shock but it was… unsuccessful to say the least.

Chihiro let out a sigh and felt tears at the corners of the eyes, like pinpricks. "I guess I was wrong… S-sorry. I shouldn't have told you that, huh?" Kazuichi was silent, just absorbing the information he had been hit with. It was like a brick – or something greater than that. A truck. A plane. Hulk Hogan in full Nazi uniform elbow smashing him in the groin from 400 feet – that sort of thing. He didn't know _why_ it hit him so hard, it just kind of… _did_. And a guy looking that cute? No way. It just wasn't possible. Chihiro let out a deep sigh and turned to leave. This was enough for Kazuichi to close his mouth (was it really open for _that_ long?) and yell out a question: "H-hey! Why'd you tell me that? There's gotta be a reason, right?" Chihiro breathed in, his inhale sharp and shaky.

"It's just… when you were working you looked so… masculine. Like everything I want to be but can't. When you mentioned that you were putting on an act and said I wouldn't understand I did… and I just wanted to tell you… I thought- I thought you could help!"

"…Help?"

"I mean… Mondo trains me… but it hurts a lot and even though I'm getting used to it… I want more opportunities to become stronger…"

Kazuichi felt guilty. He felt like an idiot for reacting that way and making Chihiro feel more insecure and useless than he already did. And… there could be merit in helping him. What that merit was he wasn't too sure about, but he felt the inclination to nonetheless. "I'll think about it."

"R-really?!" Chihiro's face lit up immediately. And he pulled Kazuichi in for another hug and made muffled happy noises. Kazuichi went stark red. Surely there are divine laws preventing males from being this cute, he thought. Those muffled happy noises really did a number on his masculinity. "O-okay, but please, no more hugs. And… let's focus on the project first, okay?"

"Sure!" Chihiro's hands fell by his side and he skipped happily out the door. Kazuichi clutched his head and lay down on his bed. The more he tried to put the events of that day out of his mind the more he just… couldn't. He tried focusing on the image of Miss Sonia he kept in his mind at all times but it seemed to be covered in static at this point. God, what was that damn interference all about? And Chihiro… a dude. And he and Mondo were the only ones who knew. Ugh, could he be trusted to keep this? It was a matter of could, he decided. He'd have too. He felt guilty thinking about revealing it. Ugh, what would Miss Sonia think of this? Why did he have to go through with this project?

Kazuichi opened up the door to the workshop, deciding he just had to take his mind off everything. He fiddled with odds and ends, listened to the radio in the room and yet he still couldn't take his mind off the day. It had affected him in ways he didn't like, or want to accept. The more he thought about everything (well, _one_ thing) the more he knew he had to channel this frustration into productiveness. And so he got to work. Time to blow that prototype out of the water he thought, For himself, no-one else, of course.

Chihiro felt amazing. Someone else knew his secret. Someone else knew his secret! And they accepted it! Well, not at first, but that didn't matter! He hadn't felt this good since Mondo agreed to train him. He wanted to wrap his arms around himself and just hug himself. But there was work to be done, and he was gonna do it! Kazuichi was now someone he could trust, someone who made him happy, and he was gonna make him proud. He felt electricity running through his body as he sat down at his computer. But the more he thought about it, the more it confused him. Why did he do that so quickly? He only really knew Kazuichi a couple of days, so why did he so openly trust him? It was something to do with the technology, he thought. Mondo never knew that much about programming, and he normally just shut Chihiro down when he tried to talk about it. But Kazuichi sat down by his side for a while and just watched, entranced. That was the difference, he supposed. Kazuichi was someone who really appreciated technology and being around it. He'd even tried to take his computer apart, which was… kinda cute actually. Well, sitting around doing nothing (except… was he blushing?) wouldn't help his friend out. He drew the blinds, flipped the lights, opened up the laptop, and got to work.

Kazuichi was absorbed in his work, as a man possessed. He managed to get three robots finished by the time the sun began to rise, each more quality than the other. More capacity for machine learning, a tighter response on the bionics, greater grip strength, better balance… Yeah, these were things he could be proud of. He rubbed his eyes, smacked his lips and yawned. He would probably sleep like a rock. Two days mostly without sleep could not be good for the constitution. Two days, he thought. That's how long it took to gain enough trust from Chihiro, enough so he could reveal his secret. He must be a pretty stand-up guy, in that kid's eyes. And, as he thought that, he collapsed. Yeah, not good for the constitution.


	5. Project 1, Part 4

Assignment 1,

Part 4

"...There are better places to fall asleep than on the ground, y'know." Kazuichi groggily opened his eyes, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking up. Through his clouded vision, he saw the outline of a familiar, white-haired boy.

"...Nagito? What're you doing here…?" Kazuichi put his hand on the cold floor and pushed himself up. He stumbled around, regained his balance and patted his pockets. Nagito was a friend, sure but there was no telling what that guy would do.

"I just walked in here, I got a feeling I suppose. I saw you on the ground and decided to wake you up." Nagito had his arms folded, and looked vacant. Kazuichi wondered why.

"Wait… wasn't that door locked?" Kazuichi gestured towards the workshop door.

"Was it? I guess I didn't notice."

"...The lock's broke."

"I just pushed it open, it opened like any other door."

"It was your luck, wasn't it?"

"Guess so."

"This guy…" Kazuichi knew Nagtio's luck put him into some weird situations. But breaking a lock by pushing open a door? What if he could do that at any time? Even at night? Man, that would be almost as bad or awkward as the truck incident. Or the motorbike incident. Or the bubonic plague incident.

"Well, I'm off. See you." Nagito quickly ran out of the room. Why was he so eager? Why'd he come into the workshop, to begin with? Man had this whole project thing been weird. Stolen wrenches, frying bacon with pliers, cross-dressers… two days. That was all in two days. He looked at the time. It was 11:20 am. He grabbed the bots, packed them into boxes, and hoisted one into his arms. He'd have to take two trips to Chihiro's room to get these both there.

Chihiro had woken up about three hours ago. He'd washed, gotten changed and eaten a cereal bar with raisins he'd gotten from the canteen. The robot – which he had taken from Kazuichi's room (he left a note with a smiley face at the end, so it should be okay) had begun to clean the room and make the bed. He had finished tweaking the A.I more, allowing it to act within a group as Kazuichi specified. It would be controlled by a central unit, a role which could switch between units in case one should run out of power, and was the one at the base of the robot stack. He smiled, happy to finish his work. 9 CPUs and motherboards lay stacked on his desk, ready for the rest of the units. There was a knock on his door and he bounded over to get it.

"Kazuichi!"

"No hugs, please!"

"Awww… eheheheh…" And there it was again. That cute little giggle. God, if only he weren't a guy… No, Kazuichi had Miss Sonia. And he was a dude. And… blech. He just needed to stop thinking about it.

"I dropped by with the first bot before," Kazuichi said, gesturing with his head to the box just next to him. "Here's the second one," Kazuichi nodded to the box in his arms. Chihiro grabbed the box next to him, which was clearly heavier than he expected. He nearly tripped lifting it and walked into his room. "C-come in!" he said, sweat beginning to form, his mouth becoming wavy. The added weight was the cool revised legs Kazuichi added, based off a certain cyborg ninja affiliated with lightning.

Chihiro lightly put down the cardboard box and sighed. They both unpacked the robots, and Chihiro grabbed the motherboards and began to get to work. "We're making 7 more of these?" Kazuichi asked.

"Well… ten is a nice round number…" Chihiro was knelt down and wiring the motherboard to the robot.

"I suppose." Kazuichi was pensive in thought and decided to press on something he'd been meaning to ask. "So, what made you… ya know… cross-dress?" Even from his crouched stance, the blush on Chihiro's cheeks was clear to see.

"Uhhhh… it… it was bullies. They were relentless. 'Be a man,' 'You're so weak even though you're a guy…' that kind of stuff… I know it sounds stupid… but it hurt back then…"

"...Sounds familiar." Kazuichi had noticed the small tears once again forming at the corners of Chihiro's eyes. Kazuichi sighed and squatted down. "I mean, if it makes you feel any better, sounds like you took it better than me. At least you're not stuck with shark teeth." Tentatively he reached out a hand and ruffled Chihiro's hair. It was soft and fluffy, and it seemed to comfort Chihiro slightly. He cracked a faint smile and his tears dried up. He leaned back from his crouch and rested his head on Kazuichi's chest.

Kazuichi grumbled, but he told himself he was only comforting a friend. Then he prayed Chihiro couldn't hear how heavy his heart was beating. I mean… he's a guy for God's sake! Kazuichi told himself. Surely he couldn't… feel something? No. He couldn't, that would be a betrayal of Miss Sonia's trust! But… Miss Sonia liked Gundham. He hated it, but even he (Miss Sonia's biggest fan and soon-to-be lover… well, not so much now…) had to admit it. Ugh, and there was this cute guy who had just kinda inserted himself into his life. He had made Kazuichi trust him in, what, two days? God, Kazuichi felt a wreck. What person apart from Miss Sonia had made him feel this range of emotions in two days? And, he reasoned, was why he let Chihiro lie there. At least for a while. And for all that while, the image Miss Sonia always in his mind faded ever further away.

Chihiro hoisted himself off of Kazuichi's chest. He had gone fully red. But he was fine with that. He continued to work on the robots quickly and was done within five minutes. Kazuichi remained silent, clearly in thought, and Chihiro knew that was about him. Once again, he felt like a problem. Kazuichi got up without another word and left, closing the door behind him. Chihiro knew why he had leaned on Kazuichi, and he'd known why since the first night of the workshop. Despite only knowing each other for a short amount of time Chihiro had feelings for Kazuichi. Kazuichi was everything he wanted to be. Masculine, passionate, technologically literate and yet still emotional. Warm. Human. And perhaps it was seeing a perfect reflection of a person who had most of his problems yet chose to deal with them differently was what fueled his desire. He found himself wanting to lie on Kazuichi's chest again. But God knows what Kazuichi would've thought about him.

The first thing Kazuichi did when he arrived back in his room was splash water on his face and tell himself he wasn't falling for a guy he'd hardly known for a few days. He couldn't – shouldn't. Especially with Miss Sonia – she needed him! But… he had also promised Chihiro his help in becoming stronger. But he loved Miss Sonia because she had something he didn't – riches and elegance. But… Chihiro had a shared passion for tech and had the cuteness he was missing. Kazuichi clutched his head in his hands. A guy? Really? Was that how low his standards had slipped? He decided to once again channel this energy into something productive. He ran to the workshop and got to work. Perhaps he should try being frustrated about his sexuality more often. He began to once again create another bot. Something he had gotten used to. His proficiency in building these tin cans allowed him to make another three in about two and a half hours. But his mind wasn't really there. It wandered. Wandered to old times with his classmates, watching Halloween movies with everyone, getting hit by a truck, first walking into the hall with Class 78, the project, Miss Sonia and Gundham and Chihiro. The more he mused on the situation, the more many things happened. He missed those times with his classmates, he really, _really_ wanted to watch some movies with some good friends; Chiaki, Hajime, Komaeda, Fuyuhiko… hell, even the oddballs like Nekomaru or Gundham. His legs hurt. He was hit with a wave of nostalgia for three days ago. His attitude towards Gundham – for reasons he couldn't explain – softened. And… well, he didn't look like a guy, right? If he was to… admit it… his dignity would be intact because no-one knew. Bar Mondo. But…he seemed nice enough, right? He slapped himself. He needed to snap out of it. He started to put the finishing touches on bot three.

Chihiro had spent the last few minutes knocking on Kazuichi's room. Suddenly, two slim, athletic figures walked up the hallway beside him. A think layer of sweat hung over their tanned complexion and they had towels slung over their shoulders. "Ah, Chihiro!" Aoi was wearing that similar cheery smile she always had on and the girl next to her seemed to be thinking about something while rubbing her stomach. The girl piped in "What're you doing knocking on that perv's door, kid?"

"Akane!" Aoi gave her an angry look.

"It's uh… do you know where Kazuichi is?"

"I think you can find him in his sex shack. I mean 'workshop'." The girl called Akane said.

"Seriously, you really need to eat something. You're extra grouchy today. And Chihiro, he probably is where Akane said he was." Aoi patted his head, grabbed Akane by the hand and led her away – presumably to the cafeteria. He collected his thoughts, psyched himself up and made his way to the workshop.

Kazuichi heard the door to the workshop open. "Go away." He couldn't afford to say much more than that. He had thought way too hard about the upsides and downsides about liking a dude in a skirt and was exhausted. He was just scratching the table in front of him because it was something he could do. "Uh… are you okay Kazuichi?" The pencil beneath him snapped as he felt his brow furrow and teeth grit. His anger channeled into his arm and the wood and graphite gave way beneath it. "Are you **fucking deaf?** Go away!" Kazuichi had a whole lot of built-up emotions inside of him and he just let himself vomit them all out. He didn't regret it. He found himself blaming Chihiro for everything. If he had just grown a pair and shut the bullies out, not taken the dumbest possible course of action and acted like a respectable human being, Kazuichi wouldn't find himself feeling like he did now. If he had decided to dress like a boy simply because _he was a boy_ he wouldn't feel like his heart was being fiddled with. This whole project was stupid. And if Chihiro actually liked him, why? He already had a muscular guardian who watched over him like a father. He had people like Celeste, or Makoto, or Aoi, or anyone else in his class who would be a better choice. Kazuichi was a bad choice all around.

Even though Kazuichi heard his sobs, he didn't respond. Why? Chihiro really liked Kazuichi, and he thought Kazuichi felt the same. So why was he so angry to see him? "Did you not hear me? **Get out!** " Chihiro really hated this. Why was he being shouted at? What did he do wrong? And then something hard hit his forehead. Had Kazuichi… _thrown_ something at him. A spanner lay at his feet. He had. Chihiro let out a shrill howl. It was a worse display of fragility than anything he had done before. It was full of cold sadness, disbelief and self-loathing. A knot of despair formed in his throat. He was on the floor and had assumed the fetal position. Ugly dribble flowed from his mouth, still gasping through wretched breaths. His eyes stung and from them flowed forth a vast ocean of tears hotter than fire, wetting the dismal floor beneath them. His bony fingers were interlocked, petrified, unable to tear themselves away from each other, like a group of lovers caught in Medusa's gaze. His pathetic legs were numb and weightless, unable to move as if shackled to the ground. His weak stomach spasmed and cried with the rest of his spineless body. And Kazuichi came to his senses.

What the fuck have I done? Kazuichi thought. He wanted to kick himself. Do more than that, even. He looked at his handiwork, sickened. He had been better at breaking things than putting them back together. And this proved it, he said to his mind. He screamed and sunk to his knees. It was a ghastly scream, one befitting someone as brimming with despair as himself. He felt like a criminal, a murderer. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm…" was all he found himself saying, like some sort of broken machine. Actions spoke louder than words, however. In one hand he took Chihiro's hand. It was soft, delicate. Like the world's most fine-tuned machine. He cupped the back of Chihiro's head in his other hand. Kazuichi noted again how soft and fluffy his hair was, like a cloud. He let go of Chihiro's hand, watching it fall limply by his side as Kazuichi propped him against his shoulder. He allowed his fingers a brief touch of Chihiro's cheek, as sweet and smooth as the rest of his body. Kazuichi ran his fingers through Chihiro's hair, ruffling it a bit. Eventually, Chihiro stopped sobbing.

He looked into Kazuichi's eyes. Kazuichi noticed how mesmerizing those eyes were. They were light brown, matching his hair. They reminded him of an autumn day, a rustic apartment, a moving city. They danced with intelligence and innocence. Chihiro sat up, his crying now isolated choking sobs and allowed their foreheads to touch. Kazuichi had gone stark red, but so had Chihiro, so it didn't matter. Chihiro wrapped his arms around Kazuichi's neck, his cold thumb pressing slightly against his nape. Their breathing became labored, and Kazuichi could hear how hard their hearts were beating. And then Chihiro pulled him close, and he felt his heart nearly explode. Their lips locked, the kiss salty from Chihiro's tears. But it was also amazing. Chihiro's lips were subtle and fragile, soft and comfy. They were charged with electricity and Kazuichi found himself pulling closer into the kiss. He grabbed the back of Chihiro's head and their noses touched, the bridges cold from the room's air, but skin burning from the passion the two felt for one another.

Kazuichi felt their tongues connect, and they kept entangled, moving around one another in a moment of passionate frenzy. It was supple and beautiful, yet full of lust. Kazuichi felt his heart hammering at a million miles per hour. He pushed a hand onto Chihiro's shoulder and put Chihiro into another position, slightly lewd. He pulled away for a slight second and saw Chihiro put his mouth into a small 'O.' Kazuichi pulled him back into another kiss. When it was over they both gasped for breath. They restrained each other from another kiss and instead hugged each other, feeling their heartbeats through their clothes. "Man, that was..."

"Amazing."

"Yeah."

"How long have you been holding that in?"

"Night one."

"...could we keep doing this, kid?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah." They both stood up and brushed themselves off. Kazuichi pointed to the robots. "Hey, could you get those done?"  
"Um, yeah…" Chihiro hadn't stopped blushing.

Kazuichi pushed him against the desk and kissed him again, thinking that was a better farewell than a simple "goodbye."

Chihiro's heart hadn't stopped beating. Ecstasy flowed through his veins. Adrenaline surged through his nerves. God, he loved Kazuichi and what he did to him. No doubt Kazuichi was feeling and thinking the same thing. He looked at the robots and began to find his way back to his room. He couldn't stop feeling giddy and thinking, I have a boyfriend now. It didn't fail to make himself blush every time he thought about it and the days of the project ahead.


	6. Project 1, Part 5

Project 1,

Part 5

Day four. Like most days, Kazuichi woke up. The difference this time was he actually wanted to. He wanted to do one thing the moment he opened his eyes, namely see Chihiro. He sat up, quickly threw his jumpsuit on, and ran out of the door. 8:20 am. He ran downstairs to the lower dorms and slammed his fist on Chihiro's door. Before he could open it, he felt an arm wrap around his neck from behind. He tried to scream, but couldn't. He was thrown quickly onto a plush, velvet chair and two Byakuyas stood before him.

"What the hell?! What is this about?!" Kazuichi screeched like a harpy at the two Togamis. Man, he just wanted to see Chihiro again. "Well, that's an overreaction if there ever was one." The rotund Togami said, arms crossed.

"Cough up a video lens, grease monkey." The slim Togami butted in. God, he sounded conceited. "Why..?"

"Does it matter why? Just give us one that can record something, now. We've seen those piece of scrap metal you're building."

"How did you-?"  
"Don't interrupt when I'm speaking to you. Just give us a lens."  
"F-fine." Kazuichi reached into his pocket and felt for one of the robot lenses he kept spare in case of malfunctions (not uncommon in some of his work, so he always kept a few odds and ends around with him). He placed the lens into the slim Byakuya's hand. "Here. Can I leave?"

"Eager to get to work with your partner? Heh. Or something else?" Byakuya decided to push a few buttons merely for the sake of pushing buttons.

"Sh-shut up." Kazuichi tried not to go pink. The two Byakuyas stepped out of the way.

"You may leave." slim Byakuya tilted his head upwards, and used it to notion towards the door.

"Thank you." The large Byakuya said, showing more empathy than his younger counterpart. Kazuichi flew out of the room, eager to see Chihiro once more.

He once again slammed his fist on the polished wood door of Chihiro's room, this time with more force (clearly showing his excitement). Chihiro opened the door and, seeing who was standing there, immediately smiled. "Oh, Kazuichi! It was you who knocked befo-" Before he could finish Kazuichi wrapped his arms under Chihiro's arms and lifted him into a hug. "Eheheheh…" Chihiro blushed and giggled, making Kazuichi's heart somersault once again. They kissed again and Kazuichi put him down and closed the door. "Why are you here, anyway?" Chihiro questioned. "Just to see you, ya ditz."

"O-oh."

"Um, is there a problem with that?" Kazuichi crouched on one knee and put his hand on Chihiro's cheek.

"N-no. I'm just used to people casually coming into my room because they want to. Even if they are my boyfriend." He put his hand over Kazuichi's and pushed it softly further onto his cheek. They kissed again. Kazuichi stood up, brushed himself off. He folded his fingers into Chihiro's, and told him, "Come on, let's go to the workshop. We'll finish the project, together." Kazuichi opened the door to the face of a boy with choppy hair, and an ahoge staring up at him.

"Am… Am I interrupting something?"

"Oh, uh, Makoto! It's…"

"…not what it looks like?" Makoto raised an eyebrow

"Y-yeah, that!"

Ugh, Chihiro needed to work on his conversational skills, Kazuichi thought. "Nice save, kid. Whaddya want, Makoto?"  
"Teruteru and Hifumi have told me to tell you all that their project is ready. It's a large feast that will be served at nine tonight. Live music will be performed by Ibuki and Leon, so it's a collaborative project. If you can, please attend!"  
"…are you some sort of F machine?"

"Kazuichi!" Chihiro lightly slapped his arm.

"Okay… we'll be there, man." Kazuichi gave Makoto a thumbs up.

"Thanks! I'll go tell the others!" And he bounded down the hall.

"Teruteru's a good friend and even cook, but I'm worried about Hifumi. Wonder what he'll try." Kazuichi remembered the odd conversation they'd had in the kitchen.

"We should definitely go, though! It'd be like a first date!" Chihiro piped up. Ugh, the idea was cute, and it was clear Chihiro was excited about it. He knew he had to go, not wanting to disappoint him.

"Let's focus on our work, for the time being, kiddo." And they walked to the workshop, holding hands and faces flushed the whole time.

"Hey, do you mind if I call you Kaz?" Chihiro asked as Kazuichi was working on the shell of another bot.

"Kaz, huh? Is that so the author can stop having to type out the word 'Kazuichi' over and over, a cute pet name or a Peace Walker/Phantom Pain reference? And… yeah, I do mind."

"Uhhh… the-the second one. And I won't call you it then…" Chihiro said. After another hour of work, Chihiro sometimes looking over his shoulder, Chihiro piped up. "Umm… can you please explain something for me?"

"Sure, whaddya want?" Kazuichi was lightly tightening a bolt in the charging port's panel. He put down his wrench and turned to look at Chihiro.

"What are these for?" Chihiro held up a pair of glasses he had retrieved from the desk. Kazuichi remembered them. They were an old pair he had, from before he had adopted the punk persona he failed constantly to keep.

"It's… nothing. I used to wear 'em. Not like I do now…" Chihiro let a little giggle out through his nose and leaned forwards. He put the glasses on Kazuichi's nose and smiled. "H-hey! N-not funny!"

"Eheheheh… I think they look cute!"

"Why'd you think I took 'em off to begin with?!" Chihiro buried his face in Kazuichi's chest. It really was hard to stay mad at him…

"You know, I thought you were kinda scary when we first started… but you're kinda silly eheheheh… and you've got nice muscles… I want those muscles..." Kazuichi patted his head and he got back to work.

"And… done!" Kazuichi had finished the final two robots, holding one up in a show of satisfaction. "Yay!" Chihiro grabbed the CPUs he had brought. It'll take me a bit to hook these up. Why don't you get changed for the dinner?"  
"You're really taking it that seriously? Well, okay then. See you in a bit, kid."

"Bye, Kazuichi!"

Kazuichi hadn't been gone 10 minutes when Mondo walked into the workshop. He pulled up a chair next to him. "Hello, Mondo."

"Hey, kid." He noted that Kazuichi and Mondo both called him by the same name, but Mondo's had an almost brotherly lilt to it, whereas Kazuichi's was far more protective and loving in a romantic way. Or maybe he just looked too deep into it. "How's it going? The punk still treating you nice?" Mondo grinned. "So, what're you doing here?"

"Not much, just finishing up the project."

"Heh, still not started mine."

"You still got that grudge? T-that's really unhealthy…"

"Bah, so what? I fail this? Like they're gonna kick me out. Besides, I'm getting free food now. Who am I to complain?"  
"I-I suppose." Chihiro finished installing the CPU into the ninth robot.

"Hey, whaddya reckon to training tomorrow? It's Friday, so it should be the perfect time. And once you're done with this, no more distractions, right? I mean, anything to distance ourselves from that yakuza shit and his friends right?"

"Y-yeah… right?"

"What's with the pause? I don't like that pause. That's the 'Mondo I'm keeping secrets from you pause.'"

"…well it's actually about Kazuichi…" Chihiro went slightly red? Did he really have the resolve to tell Mondo this?

"Oh no, I knew it. He's actually an asshole, isn't he? Well, he won't know what hit him, the little shit." Mondo clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

"N-no! It-It's nothing like that!"

"Wait…" Mondo's expression softened, but the worry in his face did not subside.

"Kazuichi's actually really nice… and sweet… a-and he's kind and understands me…" Chihiro went more and more red with every word he said.

"…please don't tell me you _told_ him?!"

"Y-yeah… th-there's a slight b-bit more to it th-than that…"

"What more could there possibly be?! Wait… oh God." Chihiro could see Mondo connect the dots as he began to work up a sweat.

"A-are you two – and I can't believe I'm saying this," Mondo gulped as he forced out the next word. "Dating?"

"Y-yeah." Chihiro tried to find anywhere else to look but at Mondo. Mondo's fist connected with the hard metal of the table.

" _Him?! Really?! Why?!_ Actually, I don't wanna know. Fucking hell…" Mondo looked at the ground.

"Mondo! Please! He's… I don't know why… look, there's just something there I can't ignore! He understands my talent, my secret, everything! A-and he accepts me for it! An-and that's why… why I always go red when I'm near him… why my heart feels funny when he hugs me… and why I kissed him… because… he understands… he-he understands… and that's all I've ever needed." Chihiro felt something surge through him. A newfound confidence. Something old. Something new.

"…well if it makes you happy, then I suppose I can be okay with it. Just don't get all mushy around me."

"Thank you! Thank you!" Chihiro hugged Mondo tightly.

"Yeah, yeah… you'd best get back to work. Wouldn't want to disappoint him, would ya?"

"Yeah! Thanks, Mondo! See ya!" Mondo walked out the workshop, confused, but happy that Chihiro was content.

Kazuichi once again sat in his room, watching the sun drop behind the bare winter trees. Peace. Quiet. Perhaps he needed more of it. The cold winter night came creeping in, inking the sky a jet black. Stars crept through the mire of darkness they were enshrouded in, and the moon shone a pale and sickly white. Welp, time for dinner, Kazuichi's inner voice told him. Kazuichi's idea of getting ready was putting on a clean yellow jumpsuit, taking a shower, and removing his beanie. He waited at the door until Chihiro came knocking. When he opened it, he noticed Chihiro hadn't really changed much about himself, just a minor clean-up – it made sense, though. Chihiro always seemed to be prim and neat.

"Didn't I tell you to clean up, Kazuichi?" Chihiro asked.

"…I did."

"O-oh! S-sorry…"

"No, it's fine. I just… like this look." He wrapped his arm round Chihiro's shoulders. "Hey, come on, let's go. It's 8:30 right now, so the pavilion should be open for business. Let's not keep 'em waiting, huh?"

The pavilion was a much-loved part of Hope's Peak, and as such, one had to book it in advance. They allowed the classes doing projects special access to it, however. Underneath the veil of night, the pavilion looked quaint and rustic. The perimeter was lined with torches made of wood, flames surrounded with metal braziers. They allowed a warm and pleasant glow to envelop all around them, including the slabs of limestone, asymmetrical and almost looking like something from an island. In fact, the whole place reminded one of the tropics or an island. A large pair of wooden tables, seating 16 each, were positioned at the center. Another large table, lined with plates of food still being served by Teruteru was positioned at the front of those tables. However, behind that was a large set of amps, speakers, and screens. Ibuki and Leon were to perform here. And, lurking in the background of all of this was Hifumi Yamada, who held a small bottle of what seemed like aphrodisiacs in his hand.

The first thing Kazuichi noticed was the slim, lilac-haired girl next to Makoto, who looked like a stereotypical butler.

"Hello, Kyoko! Hello Makoto!" Chihiro greeted them with his usual happy greeting.

"Ah. Chihiro. And Kazuichi too, nice to finally meet you."

"Hey, Kyoko was it? Nice to meetcha!" Kazuichi didn't want to be rude to Chihiro's friends so he extended his hand in greeting. In return, Kyoko shook it. He took note of the tight leather gloves that covered his hands and noticed how they seemed to almost squeak. He whistled at their make. "Nice gloves," he noted.

"Oh, thanks. I… don't remember ever being complimented on them. Makes sense it'd come from a mechanic, I suppose."

"Well, you two," Makoto spoke up, "you can take a seat wherever you want on those two tables. The food will be out shortly." Kazuichi looked over at the table. There were four spaces left at the first table. Fuyuhiko, Peko, Hajime, Komaeda, Chiaki, Nekomaru, Akane, Ishimaru, Mondo and a girl who looked like Akane all sat at the table. The rest were seated on the table opposite. The two Togamis were nowhere to be seen and Kazuichi wondered why. He sat on one of the empty spaces on the bench, near the end of the bench and Chihiro sat next to him. Hajime waved at him, Fuyuhiko gave a slight grin, Komaeda nodded at him and Mondo shot him the iciest glare he'd ever received. Had he done something wrong? He suddenly felt slightly uncomfortable. "How's it going, Kazuichi?" Hajime asked.

"Eh, pretty good. Suppose it's gonna get better, though. Teruteru's food is pretty damn great."

"Hopefully Ibuki's music won't kill us this time," Akane remarked.

"My ears still haven't recovered from last time!" Nekomaru yelled.

"Is that why you're always yelling, bro?" Ishimaru remarked.

"Yelling?! What do you mean 'yelling?!'"

"O-oh. Never mind, bro! Ha ha ha!"

Kazuichi was convinced he'd stepped into some parallel universe with this whole project thing.

"Hey, Aoi, if you don't mind telling me, why the hell's the ginger performing with crazy cat lady?"

"Oh, you mean Leon…? Honestly, he never wanted to be a baseball pro. He always wanted to be a rockstar. You've seen him, I think? Talk about dressing for the job you want…"

Suddenly a loud guitar chord split the ears of everyone present. "Oh, God…" Kazuichi heard Akane mutter. He also felt his heart drop. His ears would not survive tonight, he thought. Ibuki's loud and annoying voice split the silent night and conversation. "Let's get this show on the road! Ibuki is ready!" Mic feedback caused those present to grit their teeth and cover their ears. "Please put your hands together for 'The Love of My Life Was Just Impaled and Now I'm Not Okay!'" A sudden cacophony of chords emitted from the amps. Leon and Ibuki were throttling their guitars in unison, making an… oddly melodic yet chaotic tune. It reminded Kazuichi of the old joke:

"Mechanic, my car keeps making a weird noise!"  
"Have you tried removing the Radiohead CD, ma'am?"

He found himself quite enjoying it. Leon seemed to be living proof of the talent of Hope's Peak students. He hadn't even enjoyed playing baseball, and here he was – adapting his talent and yet still excelling.

"Wait… this is actually fucking _listenable?_ Huh. I guess miracles do really happen." Akane seemed to be quite getting into the music. It was glam rock-esque and had those odd Radiohead vibes he had noticed. It was nice. Not amazing. Not awful. Just… nice. Kazuichi's lips turned upwards slightly. Yeah. Just nice.

After a few minutes of music, Makoto, Hifumi, and Teruteru brought out the first plates. It was a veritable feast. Foods from every culture – Mexican, Japanese, Chinese and… what Kazuichi assumed was British. It was fish and chips with a side of poundshop cigarettes and… a shiv? Was that what counted as 'culture' over there? Kazuichi noticed something else, too. Hifumi, seemingly at random, lay down plates of extra-succulent looking food at certain people's seats. He said 'seemingly' as he noticed something was off. His 'muscles' tensed whenever he went to put down one of these plates. His eyes got glassy, and worry flickered within them. He took notes of who exactly he left these platters at. On his table, Chihiro, Chiaki, Akane, Aoi. On the other table a girl dressed in what looked like gothic lolita clothing, Mahiru and Mikan. All girls… except for Chihiro, but he didn't know that. He knew immediately something was up. Hifumi looked like a malfunctioning machine that needed oiling. He gestured to Gundham. He was no chef, but he did know his stuff when it came to certain chemicals used in animal taming and breeding. If Kazuichi was right about what he thought Hifumi had spiked that food with, Gundham should be able to identify it. He gestured to Gundham, unable to be heard under the guitar solo of Ibuki and Leon's "Oh, So Those Are Steel Fans Ripping My Intestines In Two?" He had to mime a couple of odd actions. He pointed to Mikan's plate as she was sat next to Gundham. He mimed eating food – or perhaps fellatio – and Gundham seemed to understand. He talked to Mikan, who giggled and blushed a bit (probably because of Gundham's odd way of talking) and he went to take a bite of what looked like meat on the bone, clutching it in one hand and putting it to his mouth. As Leon's guitar solo reached a decrescendo, Gundham jerked his head away from the meat and cried "BY THE GODS! WHAT INFERNAL CONCOCTION HAS FOUND ITS WAY ONTO THIS MEAT?!"

Leon stopped strumming and silence fell.

"…speak English!" Nekomaru yelled, through loud chews of… was he eating the shiv?!

"Someone's drugged this meat with the aphrodisiacs I use for breeding my hamsters!"

"D-drugged?" Chihiro's meat on the bone was slightly smaller than everyone else who had received one, and few bites had been taken out of it.

"Ain't 'aphrodisiacs' just a word for jumped up viagra, Gundham?!" Akane yelled, her fists clenched.

"Not particularly. These are just designed to make hamsters attracted to one another, it's slow acting, but this is concentrated beyond belief. Forget the 5 days this thing normally lasts for, this'll take effect in 5 minutes and last for 15."

"Teruteru…" Akane looked brimming with energy, almost supercharged.

"What the hell Hifumi? You little…" Aoi pulled her scariest grimace, which was hardly heart-stopping.

"Wait. They couldn't have done it." Kyoko interjected.

"Huh? But…" Mikan went to say something but was swiftly shut down.

"No. I knew Hifumi would be planning something like this. I caught him putting the aphrodisiacs on something. But they were slow-burn and would last for a while. They weren't as concentrated as these. They lasted a while. Presumably long enough for him to have his… fun. Point is, someone who knew Gundham and was trusted enough to be allowed to enter his room spiked the food with these. It's presumably to cause a distraction… but what for? No sex-crazed maniac wants only 15 minutes." Kyoko shot a steely cold glare at Hifumi.

"Eengh…" He looked more disappointed than sorry.

"So… who did it?" Sonia questioned.

"Friend of Gundham's… one of Class 77. Maybe Teruteru?" Kiyotaka put forth his idea.

"Look, it wasn't me I tell ya! We learned our lesson with aphrodisiacs last time, right Kazuichi? Back me up here man!" Teruteru stammered his sentence out, and Kazuichi felt his stomach drop. He felt the eyes of those present bear into him.

"Well, Kazuichi?" Kyoko's brilliant purple eyes seemed to pour over every secret he had ever kept. He felt sweat hit the back of his neck.

"C-cute theory. But there's no way in hell! If I were behind, don't you think I would've drugged Miss Sonia's food? I've only got eyes for her!" Kazuichi saw the murmur of agreement between his classmates. They didn't know who really got his heart going now. Like broken clocks stuck in the past, they assumed he still held his old passion. And he thought that would be his saving grace.

"Oh. Oh. So that's what all of this is about!" "Bro..?" Kiyotaka meekly called out for Mondo. But judging by the vein in his forehead which was working overtime and the white knuckles of his clenched hands, the blood roaring in his ears was the only thing he felt. Kazuichi saw within his eyes an intense, burning rage. A hatred thrown his way. The inertia he felt as he stared into it nearly sent him spinning back to his past – with its bullies and his old nerdy self.

"You rat fucking _bastard!_ " Mondo let out a cry of rage. Kazuichi was glad a stone table separated them, though he wondered how long it would last.

"M-Mondo? Wh-what's wrong?" Chihiro was distressed, but there were no tears. "My head, my head…" He muttered under his breath, clutching the back of his skull. Others under the effects of the aphrodisiacs seemed to be doing the same.

"Mondo, what's gotten into you? It looks like Kazuichi's killed a relative of yours or something…"

Makoto looked pretty pale himself. Everyone caught in the red-hot stare – as effective at warming the air as the torches surrounding them – seemed to be very uncomfortable, slightly scared even. "You mean he hasn't told you? Ugh…!" He turned his back to the people present. "You guys who've taken the aphrodisiacs, raise your hands!" Everyone who had ingested it did. "Augh!" Mondo saw Chihiro's hand raised. "It was Kazuichi! He drugged everyone!"

"…where the _fuck_ is this coming from?" Fuyuhiko looked angry, maybe as enraged as Mondo. "Are you seriously tell me you don't _fucking_ know?!"

"My, my. It appears we are about to hear something rather interesting." The girl in the lolita clothing spoke up.

"Listen here punk." Mondo pointed a finger at Kazuichi, his gaze growing ever hotter. "You're clearly no alpha male. If I were you, forever rejected by someone not meant for you, constantly snubbed and alone, surrounded by machines for fuck-knows-how-long…" Mondo's voice was as cold as the tundra, oddly calm. "If someone nice, someone cute, came along and showed interest in what you did… who you were… then I'd fall in 'love' in two days and manipulate and drug them into loving you too." Mondo pointed at Kazuichi's arm. Due to his going completely numb due to Mondo's destructive words, he hadn't noticed Chihiro laying his head on his arm. His beautiful eyes were glassy, and drool dribbled down his small chin. Kazuichi felt his heart go cold. Judging by the shocked look on many of their faces, some slightly flushed, the penny had dropped. And then Mondo let out a scream of pure rage, vaulted over the table and the last thing Kazuichi felt before Mondo's feet slammed into his chest, his vision went dark and skull slammed into the hard ground was regret.

Kazuichi awoke to Hajime and Chihiro standing over him, both with concern on their faces. He was in his dorm, blinds drawn and lamps on. As soon as his eyelids began to flicker, Chihiro yelled "Kazuichi! I'm so sorry. If I hadn't had told Mondo… Ohhhh…" He began to cry and snivel once again. He fell into Kazuichi, hugging him tightly and crying.

"...how long have I been out?"

"About two hours," Hajime told him. The clock read 10:40 pm.

"Wha- what happened?"

"Umm… well starting with Mondo drop-kicking you, we took everyone under the effects of the aphrodisiacs back to their room… but Chihiro asked to be brought to yours. Even after her aphrodisiacs wore off."

"So does everyone know we're… um…"

"Yeah."

"Ah."

"Y'know, I think it's cute. She seems your type."

"… Oh, uh, thanks." Chihiro's secret was still safe, at least.

"Well, I'll leave you two to it." Hajime left, closing the door behind him.

"Chihiro… you know I wasn't behind that whole stunt behind there, don't ya?"

"Yeah! It can't have been you! And no matter what, I know you couldn't have 'manipulated' me or whatever Mondo said you did!"

"T-thank you."

Kazuichi put his cheek against Chihiro's head. His hair was fluffy, like a pillow. It was extremely comfortable. Kazuichi kissed his forehead and saw him blush. Kazuichi felt a wave of content wash over him, as well as tiredness. "Kid? I think I'm going to go to sleep now. Now would be the best time for you to go."

"I-I wanna stay…"

"I know but…" Kazuichi had taken his jumpsuit off, and climbed into bed, still in his vest and underwear, "you kinda can't."

Chihiro walked over to the bedside and took his shoes off. "Y-yes I can."

"No, you can't! We're not doing this!" but Chihiro had already clambered into the bed and had snuggled next to Kazuichi. They were both blushing as hard as they ever had. Kazuichi was annoyed, but he couldn't help but feel happy. He rolled over and turned to look at the ceiling. He hoisted himself upwards so he was sitting up and staring at the TV he had set up. He grabbed Chihiro's underarms and lifted him onto his chest, Kazuichi's mouth and nose now covered by the top of Chihiro's head and hair. He gently kissed the back of it, stroking Chihiro's hair behind his ears. Chihiro lay on top of him, his light weight comforting and warm. He felt like a plush toy, and Kazuichi wrapped his arms around his chest and snuggled his cheek against that hazel head of hair. "Eheheh…" Chihiro giggled, blushing and smiling. Chihiro folded his fingers into Kazuichi's, still wrapped around his chest.

Chihiro hadn't ever felt this happy. Kazuichi's breath was warm and light on the back of his head and his heart was going crazy. Kazuichi tore his hands away from their interlocked fingers, grabbed the remote on his bedside table and turned on the TV. A documentary on some corporate empire was on the channel, but it was only low background noise. Kazuichi kept kissing the back of Chihiro's head, but Chihiro didn't mind. Despite the hammering of his heart, Chihiro soon fell asleep.

Kazuichi thought Chihiro sleeping was one of the cutest things he had ever seen. He let out timid and small breaths and his face seemed serene and peaceful, mouth in a small, small smile. He looked like a teddy bear. Kazuichi rocked his sleeping body to and fro, finding himself unable to stop squealing with how adorable he found the whole affair. Eventually, they both fell asleep, Kazuichi's arms still locked around Chihiro.


	7. Project 1, Finale - No Surprises

Assignment 1

Finale:

No Surprises

Kazuichi awoke to find Chihiro out of his arms and their noses touching, his precious eyes covered by those feminine lashes, mouth in a tiny 'o' and adorable snores piercing the morning silence. His hand lay on the pillow, fingers slightly curved. He let the moment hang, then turned and got out of bed. He got a quick shower, lathering the sleep out of his eyes, and brushed his teeth, feeling refreshed. He threw on the jumpsuit he brought into the bathroom with him, ran his fingers through his messy pink hair, and went back to his room proper.

When he got there, Chihiro was busy pulling a tracksuit out of gym bag Kazuichi assumed he must've brought there last night. So he was planning on staying the night… Chihiro sat, half-naked apart from the pair of girls' panties he wore. Kazuichi instinctively yelped. Chihiro gasped and stammered out a short plea, "U-uh! Do you mind? Pl-please, let me get changed…" Kazuichi left him to it. But the image of Chihiro's lithe and slender figure, bare and unclothed would remain in his mind for quite some time afterwards. Chihiro stood up, now in a blue tracksuit.

"S-sorry about that kid."

"No… it-it's fine. If I wanted anyone to see me like that, you'd be the only one." Chihiro said, cheeks flushed.

"You're going training with Mondo, huh?" Kazuichi inquired.

"Yeah, I'd quite like to speak with him, about everything. About you and me. About wanting to get stronger. About his attitude."

"I can see why… I don't wanna get dropkicked again, y'know?"

"Eheheheh…" Chihiro looked into Kazuichi's eyes. "These past few days, Kaz… they've made me realize what I've been missing out on. Why locking myself in a room with no-one but myself for company, especially when there are people so technologically gifted – people like you – out there. People I can find myself reflected in. People I care for. If I don't get stronger… you're the first... and you'll be the last person like that I ever meet. I-I can't have that. You've been the only relief I've ever had when it comes to technology. We're only like this because we were forced to work together… and that's terrifying, frankly. If I remain forever weak… I'll never know something like this ever again. But that being said… I don't want to be some paragon of machismo… some bodybuilder… I want – I want to be me. Chihiro Fujisaki. And – And I want you to be there too. Chihiro Fujisaki and Kazuichi Souda. The two of us. Happy. Of course I want strength! But… I don't want to sacrifice a good life to achieve it. I'd gladly take a quiet life. One with… One with…"

"No alarms. And no surprises." Kazuichi heard a few deeply melancholic guitar chords in the back of his mind.

"Y-yeah. That. S-sorry for ranting. I'd best head out now, huh?"

"Good luck, kid. Make Mondo see some sense for me, 'kay?"

"Y-yeah!" Determination spread across Chihiro's face. A fire lit anew in his eyes. "I won't let you down Kazuichi! You've given me a second wind!" They kissed, and Kazuichi Souda waved Chihiro Fujisaki a fond goodbye as he dashed to Mondo's training session.

Kazuichi Souda slammed the door shut, unaware that was one of the last kisses they'd share for a while. For Chihiro Fujisaki never made it to that training session.


	8. The Interloper's First Play

The Interloper's First Play

The Interloper didn't necessarily want to kidnap Chihiro Fujisaki. They _had_ to. To end how they'd been snubbed by that which they admired, they needed to create a series a plays to usher in a state of emergency for Hope's Peak. The first play was a competent programmer, which… was easily accomplished. Intercepting the perky Fujisaki was easy, and he couldn't put up much of a fight. And of course, The Interloper was armed with his secret, which caught him off guard. As The Interloper made their way out of the Academy – again, an easy task considering how quickly that fool Rao could be bought off – they found their heartstrings pulled at the weak sobbing of Chihiro in the back of the car. The guards at the great iron gate of the academy didn't question it – merely a student's regular behavior, surely. He kept asking, begging for Kazuichi to be told he was okay – something The Interloper had assured would happen, and they meant it. No harm would come to Chihiro. He was the only one who knew of what he was doing, of course, so they were the sole decider of that whole debacle. But they still felt remorse about tearing a romance apart. No-one deserved that less than Kazuichi, who was snubbed (much like they) for their whole life and holding onto whatever last shred of hope yet remained. Perhaps he would prove too distraught over his boyfriend's disappearance to become an obstacle to The Interloper's scheming.

The Interloper showed Fujisaki to his new project – one he would on until completion, or he (or if The Interloper tapped into his truly dark side, someone such as Mondo, Kazuichi or Kiyotaka) would face immediate consequences. They enjoyed playing the villain, even if only because they felt that had to. That villainy extended to what they forced Chihiro to make next, a worm capable of breaking into systems of even the highest caliber. It took him only 30 minutes. The last thing they heard before they locked in Fujisaki and left him to his work was the weak muttering of "Kaz…" before the door under the facility slammed shut and the first phase of the plan was set into motion. Never would sunlight that meek and gentle soul see until The Interloper was satisfied.

The Interloper next hopped on the monorail to the heart of the vibrant city. They hopped off at their stop, a faceless nobody inside a mass of bodies that went about their daily lives. Some looked listless and dead, others had not yet been trampled underfoot by the world around them. The grey sky was reflected drearily in the grim puddles that covered every road and sidewalk on the way to The Interloper's destination. They came to a stop outside a gargantuan building, monolithic to the city. The beating heart of the Togami empire, Togami Industries, stood proudly among the meagre buildings of the financial district. But a heart could stop, The Interloper thought. They made their way inside.

The lobby smelled expensive, the pristine white walls and black rug seeming to stretch into infinity, the whole place a testament to the wealth of the Togamis. It radiated austerity, and almost overwhelmed The Interloper, a design choice they were sure was intentional. Today, a school trip was happening, a group of budding business studies students from across the country had arrived and were making their way towards the lift. The Interloper, a student themselves, banked on the ego and comfort the Togamis had – that no-one would dare infiltrate a group of guests under their invitation in order to achieve a goal of questionable morality – and interposed with the students. No eyebrow was raised, no security guard raised an alarm. They entered the lift – which played an ominous tune, chosen by Byakuya Togami himself to 'improve productivity' – began to ascend. The music hung in the air all the while.

" _Fitter…_

 _Happier…_

 _More productive…"_


	9. Project 2, Part 1

Project 2 -

Byakuya Togami & The Ultimate Imposter

Part 1 -

The Gray Area

Time for a time jump. Every new project will jump back 5 days in time in order to offer a fresh perspective, a new project. The last project will perhaps be the only one with romance involved, but as for now, it's time for a fresh view.

Byakuya Togami was a king among the everyman (or at least that is what he liked to believe). So why oh why did that gutter-cleaning housekeep feel the need to match him up with a true guttersnipe like an imposter? Absolute nonsense, he thought. Why should he even be forced to do this paltry charade? He understood there was a need to cultivate talent (he was in a class with an author, soldier, programmer, detective, etc. of course they could be bolstered by a partner; that was only logical) but what he and a second-rate copy could possibly produce as a show of talent was beyond him. He strolled out the hall gritting his teeth, clenching his fists and not caring about which peasantry saw him in this state. His counterpart waddled after him. When they reached the door, his counterpart spoke up. "Are you just going to stand there being pissed off, or actually act like the leader I decided to model myself after?" His imposter's dead-on impression brought him nearly to boiling point.

"Stop talking." Byakuya chided. He wasn't working with this insufferable clone any second longer. "And while you're at it, go suck on a railroad spike and never talk to me again. I'll be leaving now. Follow me and I'll make sure you live to regret it."

Byakuya decided he needed some air or at least some time alone. He returned to his room, grabbing a book he was reading – Plato's _Phaedo_ – and took off to the auditorium, eager to at least enjoy a few days without lessons.

The auditorium was an extremely grand room, as was every room in Hope's Peak. It was as big a spectacle as many a concert hall, almost Carnegie Hall, but not quite. Many of Hope's Peak's finest musicians performed here, and it quite reminded Byakuya of a cinema with it's black felt walls, lined with circular lights and the large red curtains that covered the stage had etched into in gold leaf them some of the finest Sumi-e artwork Byakuya had seen, despite one of his father's professions being an art dealer. Byakuya found it deserted, not a soul in the hundreds of plush red, velvet seats in the spectator's gallery. It was a perfect place to shake off the humdrum of everyday life – a humdrum Byakuya found no great desire to participate in (as a matter of fact, he found it rather beneath him, why should a person such as he be forced into the everyman's lifestyle?). He slid his glasses up his slender nose. They cost a small fortune, but that was a pittance to the Togamis. He sat there, drinking in the silence and the musings of Plato – for he could appreciate genius other than his own, contrary to what many of his classmates would say – until a shrill voice broke the thinly woven strands of noiseless ecstasy around him. "M-Master! He-here you are!" Toko Fukawa yelled from the door.

The Ultimate Imposter couldn't remember his own name. Honestly, he preferred it that way. With his knack for impersonation, he couldn't care less what his own name was – only the name of who he portrayed. And he had begun to regret choosing Byakuya Togami. From the small conversation he had in the projector room (which was Byakuya throwing insults at him for 90% of the entire time) to the whole 'suck on a railroad spike' schtick, he began to realize that Togami was certainly a leader, but also an asshole. It was honestly quite stark. He had been led to believe Byakuya was certainly abrasive, but also had the mettle of a natural-born leader, which had mostly been why he had selected to impersonate him – he wanted to lead his classmates, while also at least being empathetic. But the Byakuya he saw then was just plain rude and stuck up, a boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He had no intention of pursuing the project further with the Byakuya he knew currently, and so decided he would instead spend the next few days scouting out Class 78, to see who would be a good person to impersonate, one who he believed could be useful.

This wench. This absolute worm. Toko Fukawa was perhaps the very bottom of the pond scum of Hope's Peak. And she was absolutely obsessed with Byakuya. "M-Master? W-why are you h-h-here? Is i-it because y-you h-h-hate me?"

"Of course it is. Now leave."

"B-but Master..."

"Leave."

"…w-we're meant f-for each other, Master. Y-you'll see."

"Are you still talking?" Byakuya had his nose buried in his book again, blanking Toko.

"Nnnngh…" Toko swiftly left the auditorium, slamming the door behind her. Thank God, Byakuya thought. He felt drained by the interaction. He decided he needed some coffee, something strong and bitter (much like Byakuya's personality).

Byakuya arrived in the cafeteria, very much enjoying its rustic aesthetic, as it reminded him of his small (well, small for the Togamis) office in the main Togami Industries building in the heart of the city. The two overweight blemishes in the center of it ruined the experience for him. Hifumi and another unshapely figure (whom Byakuya assumed to be Teruteru Hanamura, the Ultimate Cook) were behind the large marble counter that lined the east side of the canteen, just near the coffee machine (one of many machines allowing the students to create their own food or drink lined up on the marble counter). He didn't care to ask Hifumi what seemed to have gotten the guy so down and sad, as Hifumi was nearly as detestable as the likes of Fukawa. He began to brew a very dark black coffee, in order to set off the sluggish mood that witch had put him in. He had walked in on a conversation between the two, which he mostly tuned out of. Conversations between peasantry were as valued as white noise and it came into his ears as such. But he could not help catch a comment that passed from Hifumi's ugly lips. "It's just that thought of his greasy, oily hands all over her perfect, angelic form… it makes my blood boil!" Hifumi looked to the sky and screamed that last part. Whatever that degenerate was on about, it already made bile rise into Byakuya's throat.

"I know he's perverted, but he has Sonia… don't put too much thought into it. Not around another person." Teruteru pointed a stubby figure at Byakuya.

"Ah, Byakuya." A grim smile spread across Hifumi's greasy face. "Y-you didn't hear anything of that, did you, my friend?"

"First off, peasant, I'm not 'your friend,' and don't ever assume I will be so. Second off, if you're lusting after that programmer again, I wouldn't. Hell will freeze over before she ever looks twice at you." Byakuya made his distaste for Hifumi clear, not wanting to be misunderstood.

"Born with a silver spoon, I see," Teruteru spoke up, his hand to the tip of his coiffed hair.

"What's it to you, guttersnipe?"

"…I do not care for your riches, Mr. Togami. Perhaps you think me perverted, and I suppose I am. But know this – my family is self-made. I am an ultimate simply because I am good at what I do. The best, in fact. You've got a jumped up title and ego. I don't care for that."

"And I don't care for your preaching. Who cares what I was born with? I can't change my birthright, so I suppose my talent is similar to Makoto's – luck. But it's mine now. And I intend to own it." He grabbed his coffee and sipped it. Refreshing. "Goodbye." Byakuya walked out of the cafeteria, not wanting to talk to these two any longer. Why was everyone he was talking to today so damn annoying?

"Hello, Bya- ah. It appears you seemed to have gained a bit of weight. Perhaps a new training regimen is in order? You could've always used a bulk up." The Ultimate Imposter had gone to the gymnasium, in order to meet with a few members of Class 78. He had met with Sakura Ogami outside the pool and she appeared to be guarding the entrance. "Hmph. You've got it wrong, I'm not your friend."

"Hah. It's very bold of you to call Byakuya a friend."

"I'm here to meet some possible future acquaintances, that's all."

"Well, you won't meet two of them. Kiyotaka and that team leader, as well as Aoi and her new partner, are holed up in the pool, getting ready for their project."

"A mutually beneficial assignment collaboration… interesting…"

"Yeah, you can't do much here without a physical talent here, huh?"

"Or a good partner."

"Heh, I guess you're realizing that the man you base yourself on is perhaps not the most righteous person you know."

"Truly." 'Byakuya' held out a flabby arm and Sakura shook it with her steel grip. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Ogami."  
"I'd quite like to trade Byakuyas, now. Hahahaha!" Sakura gave one last hearty shake of his arm, nearly dislocating his shoulder.

Byakuya was walking to the swimming pool, ready to train his body (which he suddenly felt a desire to do, seeing how badly his counterpart had let himself go) when he saw the very person he was thinking about and winced. "Hmph. If you're trying to get in there, me, I'd highly advise against it. Unless you have a desire to have your bones shattered by Miss Ogami."

"I'm not scared of an ogre guarding her swamp, me. If that's what we're calling each other, then so be it."  
"Well, I'll be waiting at the nurse's office, me. Don't come crying."

"Heh. Watch that tongue, cur." Byakuya grinned sarcastically, but he couldn't help but feel a genuine happiness in that grin. His copycat certainly played the 'unsympathetic asshole' aspect of his own personality rather well. As they passed, Byakuya felt a slight connection to himself.

He entered the gymnasium's dedicated swimming pool area and felt the humidity as the navy-blue doors shut behind him, causing a slight damp weight to press down on his perfectly-ironed suit. "Well, well, well. I suppose Mondo's sake has me seeing double." Sakura gave him a grin, a glint in her eye. A small entourage followed her, including Aoi, a taller, more well-endowed Aoi, Kiyotaka and a louder looking Kiyotaka. Another faint smile played across Byakuya's lips. He didn't necessarily _like_ Sakura, but he admired her in the same way a businessman would admire his rival – hatred mixed with bitter respect for how they operated. She often joked they were born rivals – two children from two prestigious families, one Lawful Good, the other Lawful Evil. She often teased him by calling him by the nicknames associated with pop culture (Byakuya grimaced at the thought of those two words) icons, due to Aoi introducing her to a life outside of her fighting, one where actual social activities took place. When she found out he was calling her 'ogre' behind her back, she quickly began to bow low whenever she saw him and address him as 'Lord Farquaad,' a more grievous blow upon his pride than her fists could ever produce upon his body. But she was still at the top of his list for least-despised in his class, the top being her, Kyoko and Mukuro (purely based on the fact the latter two displayed little to no emotion), and the bottom being Hifumi (pervert) Chihiro (emotional, over-empathetic wreck) and Toko. "First two Aois, then two Kiyotakas and now two Byakuyas. Perhaps I should not try and temper my spirit with alcohol any longer."

"Hmph." Byakuya nodded. "Ogre."

"Nice to see you too, rich boy." She responded.

"Hey! What gives you the right to keep calling Sakura that?" Aoi asked, as much anger as she could muster in her voice.

"Yeah! You're asking for an ass-kicking, pretty boy!" Her double yelled at him, more energetic than angry. He supposed she was Akane Owari, the Ultimate Gymnast.

"Hmph. Try and do it. Go ahead, humor me."

"Woah! H-hey! Everybody, please, calm down! I will have order!" Taka's loud voice demanded attention and Aoi and Akane's posture relaxed.

"Yeah! Everybody, **CALM DOWN!** " The large, domineering figure yelled out from behind Kiyotaka. The command shook the hallway, and could probably be heard from the main building.

"Jeez, Nekomaru, we get it." Akane seemed quite used to these loud outbursts. The pale-as-ghosts figures of Aoi and Kiyotaka were not.

"Well, lovely talk but I must be going now. Move out of my way." Byakuya continued that cold, deadpan tone he so loved to speak in as he gestured with his arms and watched the sea of five students part beside him. It had been a rather long day in terms of people he did wish to speak to appearing suddenly and ruining his tranquil day.

Byakuya entered the boy's changing rooms and got changed in one of the many spacious cubicles that lined the east and west perimeters of the room. He got a shower and walked out onto the poolside. The floors were clean and white, without a spot or speck of dust on them. The pool itself was 50 meters lengthways and 10 meters in width. It had two large diving boards on either end, which Byakuya often jumped off. Only a spineless fool would fear a height that could not kill you. He noticed a figure who was swimming at the other end (she must have arrived sometime before those four got in, as Sakura was guarding the entrance and would surely be strict about it), and he noticed the slender figure of Sayaka Maizono, so often absent due to her many tours with her idol group around the country. They locked eyes, and his gaze which simply read 'don't bother me' was all she really needed to catch to get the picture. She continued on swimming laps up and down, assumedly to keep her figure for tours. Byakuya lowered himself into the pool, the slight cold of the water chilling his skin, and felt the tension of the day melt away. He took a deep breath, thrust his arms forward and began to get to work.

Byakuya eventually got out of the pool, noticing that Sayaka had left, probably at one point during his training session. He hoisted himself up, caught his breath and returned to the changing room. After putting on his clothes and flattening down every crease he could find, he pushed his glasses up his nose and exited the gymnasium. The evening air bit at his nose and fingers with its bitter breeze, and he checked his watch (which was about the same price as a small flat in the center of London) and saw the time was about 7 pm, meaning he had been training for about three hours, which satisfied him greatly. He returned to his room, welcoming the warmth it brought with it. He went to his desk, on which was sitting a standard-issue Hope's Peak laptop he had persuaded (read; 'threatened') Chihiro to upgrade for him. His phone (another expensive buy) was positioned next to it. He picked it up to see he had received a text from his father at 5:21 pm. It read "My son, victor among your siblings and heir to our family's throne, the Togami Corporation is undergoing some troubles. We're understaffed at our main office and the meetings with Kamiki Tech, Tojo Catering Services, and Ikami Inc. have all requested a Togami individually. There's not a chance that your exiled half-siblings can be there, and there would have to be two of either of us for the meetings to all go forward. Son, I trust you – rightful heir to the Togami Empire to come up with a strategy and report back in two days time.

– Your Father."

Byakuya set his phone down, next to empty coffee cup he hadn't bothered to wash – despite him sometimes making his own food now, he still wished Aloysius was there to do the rest for him. "Two of either of us." The words took on a bitter irony now he was in this situation, where he had access to a second him. These were all vital meetings, with famous people undoubtedly attending the boardrooms they were to be held in – for the Togami Corporation to miss them was unthinkable.

Looks like the project's going forward as planned, he thought.


	10. Project 2, Part 2

Assignment 2,

Part 2 – Restart

Byakuya woke up feeling sore. He was no athlete, but he hoped that his training wouldn't have left such a pain in his bones. He only got a few hours of sleep, as most of his nocturnal hours were spent pondering and researching the potential partners his father wished to go into business with. Ikami Inc. was a business that had made its fortune in the clothing industry, producing incredibly 'fashionable' clothing (plain cotton with the company logo plastered onto it) and subsequently striking it rich from the youth who decided it was probably the best they were gonna get for a while. Tojo Catering Services were interesting – the reputation they had garnered was for providing maids that performed whatever was asked for them and that meant _anything_ , meaning a great deal of their success and wealth was known to be for rather insidious reasons. Byakuya had browsed forums that mentioned twisted tales of hitmen, prostitution and other wetwork. And then there was Kamiki Tech. Byakuya already knew much about them. His father had attempted numerous meetings with them in the past but was unfortunately snubbed by the executives – all computing geniuses on many different levels. Programming, design, hardware, software – you name it, Kamiki Tech was the best at making it. Byakuya had dug deeper, trying to find what had suddenly sparked this interest in a deal with Togami Industries, eventually stumbling upon a site called ' ' which caused him to gnash his teeth together when he first read it – she had a _fansite?!_ A sudden twinge of sorrow passed through his gut – only sudden, very fleeting – as he realized one of his classmates had an entire underground network of overenthusiastic stalkers.

His businessman instincts told him that he should check here (after all, a haven dedicated to a programmer surely would have some form of discussion on Kamiki somewhere – maybe she'd already been hired or had a few offers come her way…) after being forced to look at the top daily discussion so dramatically entitled "Our angel is being ravished by a grease monkey as we speak!" by one 'princesspigglesfan53.' Byakuya immediately felt that sense of sorrow return. Hifumi was seeming to attempt to mobilize an entire task force of rabid stalkers to combat some non-existent oppressor. Byakuya quickly went to the search bar on the site and typed in 'Kamiki' as the keyword. The first hit gave him exactly what he was looking for. It was titled 'Taichi Fujisaki is a new employee at Kamiki Tech!' by one 'chifuji734.' The post detailed how Taichi, assumedly Chihiro's father had joined the ranks of Kamiki Tech's executive board, and how he was hired to improve the company's 'empathetic approach to business.'

Byakuya knew what he had to do. He would have his body double go to Ikami Inc. and deal with them, as he clearly understood how clothing and textiles work (Byakuya saw the stitches in that suit, they were 100% accurate to his own, just… larger). His father would go to Tojo Catering Services, they would probably be the hardest to deal with and his father was a stoic, unyielding bastion who could understand murky and dark business to easily secure the merger. And as for himself… he could easily appeal to the father of a weak and pathetic daughter like Chihiro if he were to be at the meeting (which, chances were, he was). If he had raised his child to be like that, then he himself should be a pushover. Okay… roles assigned, Byakuya thought. Time for the first order of business, breakfast. Then to find his new business partner.

Byakuya arrived in the canteen to Makoto, Kyoko and a boy with wispy, white hair standing just behind them, the former eating cereal and the latter stuffing his face with a toasted bagel. Makoto and Kyoko greeted him with a "good morning," through mouthfuls and the white-haired boy (Byakuya decided he must be Nagito Komaeda) nodded his way. He nodded to all three in response (a far simpler way of both showing approval and the fact he was okay with their presence) and poured himself another bitter coffee, and grabbed a breakfast bar from a stack of them lined up near the end of the chilling marble. He leaned on the counter with one elbow, drinking his coffee and squinting through the rays of bitter sunlight pouring through the window, hardy alleviating the bitter chill of the winter's morn on his skin. While doing so his ears focused in on the hushed tones of Kyoko and what he heard was quite odd. Odd snippets of conversation were in earshot. "Something odd going on… 77 on edge… mechanic acting strangely… Yakuza planning something… keep Mondo safe… messing with us… check up on everyone… report back… mole… interloper… puppeteer… good luck…" was most all he could catch. Those last three single words carried implications Byakuya did not like, reminding him of the espionage and crooked-hand tactics so often used in business. He finished chewing the grain and raisins of his breakfast bar and left the canteen, deciding he would think of what had happened no further.

Byakuya spent the next good part of an hour scanning each room in the building for his doppelganger until he happened upon the textiles room. Byakuya opened the door to find his alternate self along with Junko, a girl with crimson red hair and a plaid skirt with a DSLR camera attached by a cord to her chest (Mahiru Koizumi, Ultimate Photographer, Byakuya thought) and a petite blonde-hair girl in a garishly orange kimono who rested her chin on the table, just slightly tall enough to do so.

"Ummm… Byakuya?" Mahiru locked eyes with his double. "...why is there a slimmer version of you at the door?"

"That's the actual Byakuya Togami. The man I based myself on. And I'm confused as to why he's here too."

"Well, he's got you beat on looks…" The small girl sniggered.

"You're coming with me… me."

"We're in the middle of something, so no, I won't."

"Did you hear a word of what I said? Come with me."

"When I'm done with this, I'll consider it. Meet me in my room." Byakuya felt his gut twist in a knot of anger. How dare _he_ be ordered around by himself?! But the Togami Empire needed him, and so it had to be done.

"Wow Byakuya, that vein in your neck is _reaaaallly_ bulging. You trying to show me something?" Junko had made it a habit of making snide remarks towards everyone at every possible moment. Byakuya – to say the very least – did not appreciate the ones thrown his way. As if this jumped up whore of a high-school student could come close to insulting his pride.

"Fine. I'll see you there." Byakuya turned on his heel and walked out the door, annoyed.

"My apologies. Let's continue." The Ultimate Imposter hadn't expected his partner to come calling. He thought he would lead another assignment (as not to get a 'fail') but this changed things. He planned to use his ability with creating intricate and accurate clothing to assist the Ultimate Fashionista and Ultimate Photographer with the photoshoot they were planning. But now he was actually wanted by his partner, which was oddly out of character. He decided he was rather interested in what he had to request of him and resolved to go. But for now, he had other business to attend to. The clothes Junko planned on wearing were, as expected, rather fashionable especially an interesting, contrasting black and white suit she planned on using as the centerpiece for the shoot. He didn't see the logic in inviting the rather nasty kimono gremlin that was Hiyoko, but supposed that Mahiru demanded it. After a few final tweaks to the design of the clothing, they all got to work.

Byakuya stood, slightly annoyed at how long it was taking his partner to join him. It had been four hours, and Byakuya had occupied his time reading and listening to classical music – Tchaikovsky tended to somewhat improve his mood. After around fifteen minutes of standing outside the corridors, wishing his other self was as dependable as he himself was when it came to profit, the rotund figure of his partner appeared at the end of the corridor, lumbering towards his room. "Hmph. Look who finally showed up." Byakuya chided himself.

"Don't give me that lip. I wouldn't be here if you didn't interest me with your sudden change of heart." He found himself saying.

"Open up. Something tells me you'll find this as a good way of proving yourself as… myself."

"Tongue-tied?"

"Open the damn door."

His double opened the wooden door to his room, and Byakuya walked in, walking to the partition that separated the bathroom from the bedroom and grabbed a chair from a small alcove at the back of the room, placing it at the desk where his doppelganger was sat, the frail wooden chair he was sat down on bending under his weight.  
"What brought this undoubtedly altruistic meeting on, me?" His clone said.

"Take a look at this." Byakuya produced his phone from his pocket, the aluminum case surrounding it ice-cold from the winter chill. He saw his body double's eyes pore over the text displayed on its screen and a glint caught in them.

"Two days, hmm? A cinch. Where do we start?" Byakuya felt a genuine grin across his face. A kindred spirit, in business, finally! His body double had emulated his vigor for the continuation of family's empire in double strokes and Byakuya was all the happier for it.

"My idea is to sic you on Ikami. You clearly enjoy your work with clothing and textiles. Hopefully you've done your homework on how business is done; no Togami is complete without it, after all. If you can play to those two elements of your persona… we can create a very lucrative deal indeed. You seem to play my part quite well, but you must be _abrasive_ for God's sakes. Do not let up on these people. They're perhaps some of the biggest sticklers in the market at the moment."

"Bigger sticklers than Kamiki?"  
"Funny you should mention that. I'll get to them in a minute but it's safe to say this cynicism towards business stems from their market, who'll eat up anything they put out. They sold a brick with their logo on it for God's sake, they're complacent with what they're making and who's buying, so they'll be hard to crack. Don't let up in the boardroom."

"You mentioned Kamiki? What's happening with them?" "Ah yes. Well, it turns out an executive board of computer geniuses may not be the most emotional or empathetic people out there. Big surprise. Recently they hired a man to help improve their empathetic approach to business, rather than just… siccing foreign tech on their customers and then not responding when things went downhill. This man is very important to what I have planned. I take it you've heard of Chihiro Fujisaki?" "The programmer from your class? I've heard about her before, more accurately her genius and timid nature… why is this important?" "The man they hired is that girl's father. If he's anything like his daughter… let me deal with him. The deal will be over like," Byakuya snapped his fingers, "that. His daughter is so frail and spineless that if he takes after her the deal could well end as a merger if I can play to his emotional side. Normally I don't operate like that, but this time duty calls for it."

"I take it your father's dealing with Tojo."

"Naturally."

"Hmph. This should be interesting. Think about it. By the time they realize there are two Togamis doing two separate deals at the same time, it will all be over! Oh, yes, this is your masterstroke in business, Byakuya."

"Hmph. Let's not get complacent. We've got two days ahead of us and if we're to make sure this runs smoothly we've got to make sure there's no room for error. Believe me, with who we're dealing with the moment we show any weakness, they push harder for a greater grant or more money from us… no. This must be efficient. And if we're going to submit this as an assignment we'll need physical proof… some kind of recording… and it has to be discreet… perhaps even secret…"  
"Isn't that illegal?"

"Do you think the school will report our activities? We've got a literal Yakuza here and you're worried a slight bit of moral bankruptcy will lead to our expulsion or arrest? I doubt that."

"Well, how about we come up with a plan and relay it to each other tomorrow. Ask your father for more information on who'll be at the meetings. Until, we meet again, me." His double stood up, extending a pudgy hand. Byakuya felt a sense of pride – perhaps even kinship – as he shook it. Odd that the only person he was truly proud of was quite literally masquerading as himself. Poetic, he thought.

"Goodbye," Byakuya said, nodding at his partner, their steely gazes charged with electricity.

Byakuya returned to his room. His alarm clock read 5 pm. He sat down at his desk, sipped his coffee he had left there before (now cold, but he didn't mind) and started to tap away at his phone screen.

"Father, do not worry about the second Togami, I have seen to it myself and he has decided to take on Ikami. As for myself, I have chosen to attempt to strike a deal with Kamiki, for reasons that will become apparent if you can find out who will be at our boardroom meetings, and relay that information to us. We shall not fail, our family's empire will grow yet again. I assure you.

– Your son." Byakuya tapped send and lay his phone down. For the next three hours, he sat there waiting for a response, indiscriminately reading or listening to the classics. At 8 pm there was a knocking at the door and still no response from his father. He walked up to the door and opened to find the figure of Yasuhiro standing at the doorway. "'Sup." was all he said before Byakuya questioned him:

"What do you want?" Byakuya asked, irritated.

"It's board game night at Makoto's room… you've not attended for the past three months so tonight it's Monopoly in a desperate attempt to appeal to you. Everyone except Chihiro is gonna be there, as well as a few members of 77… you in?" Normally Byakuya would've said no to Yasuhiro and his paltry attempts to have him join the rest of the class in their silly games. But he was in a good mood tonight, and found himself saying,

"Why the hell not?"  
"Ah, shame but I guess I ex- wait, you're coming."

"I'm not repeating myself."

"Awesome, man! See you there!" Yasuhiro grinned and held up his hand for a fist-bump. Byakuya just gave him a cold stare, and he walked off. He checked his phone one last time, still no response, and walked off to join his classmates and their new partners in their silly games night. As he left his room, despite his coldness towards most things his classmates did, found himself thinking he wouldn't miss it for the world.


	11. Project 2, Part 3

Assignment 2,

Part 3 – Business Studies (or the Kingpin's

day off)

Byakuya rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses he had left by his bedside. Slipping them on while looking at the ceiling and letting his eyes adjust to the morning light, he remembered his the text he had sent to his father. Pushing off his duvet and standing up, he stretched and felt the tiredness leave his body. Walking over to his desk, he grabbed his phone and saw he had a text. His father had replied, with a message that simply read:

"One day. Mr. Fujisaki will be there. I trust your 'other Togami' has things sorted out. I wish you luck and trust you will be punctual. The meetings begin at 1 pm sharp.

-Your Father."

Byakuya found it best not to reply. It's not like he thought his father would bother even looking at it. After running himself a brisk shower (in which he thought about how hard he had destroyed his classmates and their contemporaries at Monopoly) and freshening up, he very carefully threw on his usual clothes, patted down the creases in them and then heard a knock at his door. He walked over to it – at his own pace – and opened it, expecting to see (as both classes had begun to call him) 'Twogami,' but was greeted instead by a whitish-grey haired girl with a sheathed sword on her back. "May I come in?" She queried, glasses and red eyes visible through the crack in the door Byakuya had opened – he always kept the chain over the door for posterity's sake.

"I don't know, may you?" Byakuya responded, irked that he had to make conversation only minutes after waking.

"I'm not in the mood for this, Togami." The girl put her hand on the hilt of her blade and wore a stern expression.

'Hmph. Fine. Come in." Byakuya opened the door and gestured for the girl to come in. He was nothing if not mannerly when he was annoyed. "What business do you have with me..." he noted the sword and linked a name to it. "Peko Pekoyama?"

Peko pulled out a chair from the alcove near the bathroom and sat down. "I must make a request, one for my young master." A small bead of sweat formed near her temple.

"And why – pray tell – would you _ever_ think I would fulfill a request from someone I've never talked to? And – if I may remind you-you are operating with a _Yakuza_ family, one my family has **directly** opposed in the past."

"… I do know this, yes." Peko seemed to refuse to stare into Byakuya's eyes. "But this has nothing to do with our… life outside of school. You're going into the city tomorrow, yes?"

"How did you find that out?"

"Twogami told me during game night. And judging by your response I assume you are."

"Hmph. Yes, as a matter of fact, I do plan to travel into the city tomorrow. But that is solely for business reasons and I plan to do nothing more while there."

"… please, hear me out. I cannot go into the city this week and I must deliver..." Peko produced a small slip of paper and handed it to Byakuya, along with a long letter. "these, back home. Hope's Peak does not allow the post to come in and out of the school, for security reasons." Byakuya scanned the letter. It read:

'Hinata Hajime, Mr.

Your tuition fee for the New Year's term has yet to be paid. If your parents/guardians do not pay the fee within two weeks from the sending of this letter, you will be removed from reserve course and blacklisted from Hope's Peak.

Yours,

Hope's Peak Treasury.'

Byakuya then examined the small slip of paper. It was a cheque, with the appropriate tuition fee for Hajime allotted. It did not yet bear a signature, however.

"Young Master pulled some strings and the rest of Class 77 – well, apart from Kazuichi who cannot afford to give what little he has – all gave money towards this. This envelope," Peko passed a coffee-brown envelope to Byakuya, with the address of Hajime's parents neatly scribed in cursive on the front, "will contain the cheque. I ask you to please post this while you are in the city. It is not much of a detour – it will take but seconds, so please…"

"Fine, I'll post it for you. It's hardly an annoyance, so I suppose I'll do it."

"Thank you. Allowing his friend to remain at this academy… this will please the young master greatly."

"Yes, yes. You can leave now."

"Of course. And thank you." Peko stood up, brushed herself off and walked out.

Byakuya inserted the cheque into the envelope and sealed it shut. He looked out of his window, which overlooked the school grounds, as all Class 78's rooms did. He absentmindedly flicked the corners of the envelope while looking out upon the endless green of the school grounds, coated with a thin layer of dew and intermittently covered by buildings of differing sizes and levels of decoration, the dorm Byakuya was in connecting the main building, the foundations of which were just visible from where he was sitting, stretching into the level plain. Byakuya grabbed his phone and decided to text Twogami, as he had taken his phone number the night prior.

"Are you awake?" He asked in his text. A few seconds later came the reply:

"Of course."

"Are you prepared for tomorrow? I finished all of my research, so I needn't prepare more."

"Allow me this day to get ready and finish reading up on Ikami. Don't think about disturbing me."

"Fine. Be up by 6:30 tomorrow. I'll have Aloysius chauffeur us into the city and I need a certain something off someone else." Byakuya pressed down on the power button and slid the phone into his pocket, ready to face his task the next day and resolved to spend the rest of the current day as he wanted to.

Byakuya strolled into the computer lab, munching on a breakfast bar he had picked up from the cafeteria. He half expected to find Chihiro there, but instead found Fuyuhiko there. "…What's a Yakuza doing here?" Byakuya was semi-confused as to what business Fuyuhiko had in the lab.

"Well, I ain't working on my fuckin' project, so… your classmates are all assholes, y'know that? That detective and biker especially. I'm guessing Peko came to see you?"

"That she did." Byakuya sat down next to Fuyuhiko, who was browsing Google. "And I've got the cost covered."

"…that money isn't dirty, you know." Fuyuhiko suddenly blurted out.

"I never even asked about – or insinuated – that."

"Yeah, I know but it's just. Some of it is mine, but I got that through our family's more… legitimate businesses. We have a literal princess in our class, for fuck's sake! Nagito tried to get around 15 thousand yen from an ATM but the lucky bastard got 150 thousand instead. Chiaki gave some of her money from those gaming tournaments she wins. And Kazuichi- Kazuichi didn't even have to chip in, but he did… fuck his bleeding heart attitude. We never even told Peko about that, she'd tell him to return it immediately. Yeah, it was only 7.5 thousand but… ugh."

"I didn't ask you to tell me that." Byakuya didn't care for Fuyuhiko's three-hanky stories about his friends that Byakuya couldn't care less about.

"Yeah, no shit. But you're the only one who knows about this whole reserve course bullshit and I had to get that off my chest." Fuyuhiko had clicked onto the news, nothing too interesting. The buzz of the machinery surrounding them was the only thing bar silence that was palpable between the two. Byakuya stood up to leave – not even entirely sure why he was there to begin with – when Fuyuhiko called after him. "Hey. Thanks for helping out Hajime." Fuyuhiko showed courtesy.

"Whatever." But Byakuya could not care less for the courtesy of a criminal.

Byakuya had planned to train in the gym, but as he pushed open the door in his gym clothes he was nearly skewered by a throwing knife and that plan went out the window. "Kh!" He let out a gasp as the knife sunk into the wall around a mere 30 centimeters from his face. The hand that had let the knife fly looked coldly at him, she was the unspeaking form of Mukuro Ikusaba.

"My apologies, Byakuya." A gruff voice, that of Sakura rang throughout the room, seeming to almost echo off the walls.

"My reflexes are like that still. You're lucky I can still divert my path quickly. Sorry." No sympathy emitted from Mukuro's tone, despite her words.

"Byakuya, you'll have to come back later. We don't want you to get hurt." Peko was also standing the room. All three were sweating, their breathing laboured. Peko's sword was unsheathed, and Mukuro held a similar looking blade in her hands. Several more weapons were strewn across the floor. A mace, a flail, a shield, a wrench, what looked liked several pounds of Semtex, an AR15, an MP-40, a stick of dynamite, a double-barreled shotgun and a bandanna labelled "INFINITE AMMO" along with many, many more weapons of war were haphazardly thrown across the room. "… is your project trying to make some sort of fallout shelter?" Byakuya questioned.

"Ha, as if." Sakura had her arms folded and looked at Byakuya in the eye. "It's just simple weapons training."

"S-simple? Th-there's explosives here!" Byakuya tried to hide the shock in his voice.

"We're professionals. There's no need for alarm." Mukuro said, still as stoic as ever.

"Well, you'd best be going before we turn you into a pincushion. I'm not sure if I would stop Mukuro's – ahem – 'reflexes' next time she decides to take aim at your pretty face." Sakura grinned at Byakuya deviously. Byakuya thought it best to make his excuses and leave.

Making his way back to the main building, Byakuya found himself opening the door to the library, chiding himself as he knew who exactly would be there. The library was much like the other rustic areas in Hope's Peak. It had a soft brown carpet, with oak tables on grey metal legs and quaint green pot plants in white ceramics. The walls were painted a homely shade of brown and birch bookshelves held swathes of knowledge and fiction. "M-Master! You came to find me!" Toko immediately pulled herself away from the book she had her nose in and rushed to Byakuya's side. "No, I didn't. I came to fetch a book." Byakuya wrinkled his nose at Toko's stench. He remembered when he visited a pub in England when he was with his father on business. The 'Ye Olde Man and Scythe' had a rancid smell one could almost taste, almost as putrid as Toko's own stench which emanated from her disgusting body.

"I-Is it because you see me a-as some di-disgusting whore?" Toko stuttered, face contorted in anger and self-pity.

Byakuya turned and glanced at the shelves to find a book that would catch his interest. "Yes, actually."

"O-ohh.." Toko moaned, deep in the throes of pleasure due to Byakuya's insult.

"Why do I even bother responding to you?" Byakuya made no attempt to hide his disgust.

"B-because you care about meeeee…" Toko was blushing and drooling, hands clenched and on her chin.

"… I'm not even gonna respond to you from now on."

"That's because you don't feel like insulting me! You're trying to hide your true feelings!"

Byakuya just grabbed a book – a compendium of playscripts entitled "Everyman and other miracle and morality plays," turned on his heels and waltzed out of the library and back to his room.

Byakuya slumped onto his bed. It was only 3 pm but Byakuya felt tired from nearly dying in the gym and also nearly dying again in the library. He spent a few hours just browsing online and watching videos online and texting his other self, who finished his preparations at around 5 pm. Byakuya thanked him for his service, to which Twogami asked if he 'thanked people often.' He thought about that and simply replied 'no.' Eventually, the sun set and night dawned. And as the cold stars hung in the sky and the wind blew cold and silent through bare winter branches, another knock rang out on Byakuya's door. He had never felt so popular.

"'Sup." Leon laughed and scratched the back of his neck. "I'm here to ask you something."

"… what?" Byakuya considered Leon to squander his potential as the Ultimate Baseballer, wanting instead to be a rockstar. Byakuya saw wasted talent as almost criminal and regarded Leon as such. "...can you sign this?" Leon held out a clipboard – a request for equipment from the Hope's Peak music department. It was already signed by Ibuki Mioda and Leon Kuwata, with an extra signature from Mondo Owada.

"Get someone else to do it," Byakuya said from behind the chained door.

"W-wait! We can't find anyone else! They're all working! C'mon man, we need this signature from you! Please?!"

"…" Byakuya gave it some thought. He supposed he wasn't exerting himself too much by giving Leon what he wanted. He strode over to his desk, grabbed a fountain pen from one of its drawers and signed the form from behind the ajar door.

"Aw, hell yeah! Tha-" Leon had no time to finish his showing of gratitude before Byakuya slammed the door in his face, dusting off his hands after doing so.

Byakuya left his phone charging on his bedside table. He texted his father two words:

"We're ready." He then lay, staring at the stark white ceiling and knowing that tomorrow was a big day for his family's empire, one he put partially in the hands of one he did not entirely trust or know too well. He tamed these wild thoughts of anxiety and uncertainty, tempering them into a knife of ambition and gall he threw at the thin veil of lucidity that surrounded him still. Unlike Mukuro, he did not miss his mark and the deep vice of sleep grabbed hold of him and dragged him into its throes.


	12. Project 2, Part 4

Assignment 2,

Part 4 – A Maw of Concrete

Byakuya rubbed the sleep out his eyes, flicking out the tiny flecks of yellow from his fingertips and putting his clenched fist to his mouth to stifle a yawn. He finished the coffee he had brewed a half-hour earlier, at 6 am. He was currently standing outside the other Byakuya's dorm room, knocking on the large glazed slab of wood, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was his father.

"Son," the text began, "about Kamiki. The meeting's been rescheduled for tomorrow – something to do with the company needing an extra day to gather resources. I hope you can adapt to this.

– Your father."

Byakuya gritted his teeth and exhaled through his nose. Of course. He would still travel into the city, but now he'd have to stay there overnight. Twogami opened the door and picked up on his irked expression. "Did you have a nightmare or something?' Twogami didn't sound all that concerned.

"My meeting's been rescheduled for tomorrow. You still have yours today, so I'll come to the city with you. Aloysius will return you to Hope's Peak and I – I'll have to book a hotel room. Ugh." The word 'hotel' left a rotten taste on his tongue. "He'll be picking us up at nine."

"T-Then why did you wake me up at half six?!" his double asked, looking extremely perturbed.

"To check you've got everything ready. Did you create a PowerPoint like I did – and like I asked you to?"

"Of course I did. I'm not stupid. I mean, it's basically propaganda about why their company is trash and will fail unless surrender everything they own to us."

"Well, if you can convince them, then that's good."

"So we just… wait here?" Twogami asked. "Well, I'm waiting on someone. I've noticed some… irregularities in their behavior and I think we can get something from them."

"… okay then."

Byakuya stood at the door, waiting for about 2 hours with Twogami. They talked about their plans, strategies and went online to pass the time. "We're probably going to hear a knock on the door opposite to us. When we do, grab him and drag him in here. We need something of his." Byakuya kept his ears open until the clock ticked to 8:23, when a loud and quick knock rang out from the room directly opposite. Byakuya opened the door and gestured to his double to grab the neon pink and yellow figure by the neck, causing him to struggle as he was dragged into the room and dropped down on a velvet chair. "What the hell?! What is this about?" Kazuichi screeched, yelling in a frenzy at the two of them.

"Well, that's an overreaction if there ever was one." Twogami folded his arms and exhaled through his nose. Byakuya decided to take the reins on the conversation.

"Cough up a video lens, grease monkey." Byakuya knew he had to get a lens to record the meetings as proof of his exploits (even if it was illegal).

"Why..?" Kazuichi began.

"Does Just give us one that can record something, now. We've seen those pieces of scrap metal you're building." He had heard about the odd robots Kazuichi and Chihiro were building and knew they had to have had some form of recording device.

"How did you-?" Byakuya didn't like the sound of Kazuichi's voice and decided to cut him off.

"Don't interrupt when I'm speaking to you."

"F-fine." Byakuya watched the mechanic rummage through his pockets with his greasy hands and pull out a lens and place it in his hands. Byakuya winced as he did so. "Here. Can I leave?" Byakuya began to piece things together, based on whose door Kazuichi knocked on. "Eager to get to work with your partner? Heh. Or something else?" Poking fun at people beneath him was one of Byakuya's great joys of life.

"Sh-shut up," Kazuichi said, going a deep pink much like his hair.

"You may leave." Byakuya tilted his head towards to door, directing Kazuichi towards it. The two moved out of his way and watched as he walked out.

"Thank you," Twogami added, showing that he seemed to hold some empathy for his classmate.

"Well, that's that." Byakuya pressed down on the pressure sensitive back of the lens and watched a slight glow in the centre, only caught by the observant. He attached it his button and saw the light continue to glow. "Here." He passed the lens to Twogami. "Attach this to your button when you're in there and hope they don't notice."

"Okay. I take it we get our stuff together and then meet your manservant?"

"He's not my- yes. We get our stuff together and then meet my manservant."

"Heh. Sounds like a plan." Twogami slid a flash drive out of his laptop, slid it into his pocket and grinned. Byakuya patted his pocket for his wallet, which already contained everything he needed for the city within it.

Byakuya pushed open one of the school's main doors and felt the cold breeze of the winter morning again his cheeks, his glasses saving his eyes from the brunt of the chill. He walked along the path to the school gates, covered in a thin coat of frost, his double trotting slowly behind him. He breathed out and saw his breath appear in front of his face, steaming up his glasses. He took his embroidered handkerchief from his pocket and wiped them, hearing the pat, pat, pat of his feet on the flagstones. He got to the large iron gates that separated the academy from the outside world. They contained the crest of the school, which parted down the centre when they opened. A guard manned a small station near the gates, opening them when necessary and looking out for the students who had to leave and enter. "Hello," Byakuya said to the man. "We'd like to get through."

"… Mr. Togami, sir. Why are there two of you?"

"That does not matter. Let us through, we're waiting on someone."

"Of course, sir." The guard replied. The gates slid openly silently, forced open by the mechanics in the hinges and allowed access to the outside world. Byakuya walked through the gate, while his imposter thanked the man at the gate, probably freezing to death and wishing he were anywhere else but this place.

"Hello, Aloysius." Byakuya greeted his butler (now turned chauffeur), who was to drive them into the city. The car they were in was as lavish as one would expect from the Togamis. It wasn't a limo, but it wasn't the everyman's car either. Byakuya enjoyed his choice of drinks, such as flavoured sparkling water, a choice of soda or champagne – he often found himself drinking the champagne on these rare trips outside of Hope's Peak; after all, the people he was surrounded them demanded classy alcoholism. He looked outside the black-tinted windows and saw the blur of the road outside of the thin layers of frigid glass slowly become less and less natural, turning from a country road full of bare trees with their haggard branches to metallic bars of wrought iron lining tarmacked roads where cars trundled along, all wanting to go somewhere, each a story to be told in their own right. Aloysius drove down a road that would bring the two Togamis to the heart of the city and made it known. "We're nearly there, Young Master." Byakuya considered Aloysius to be the closest thing to a friend he had – he never asked after his health or how school was going whenever Byakuya had these very rare outings from Hope's Peak, though Byakuya wouldn't necessarily mind if he did. "Ok, Aloysius. Just drop us outside Ikami, he," Byakuya pointed at Twogami "has his meeting in… 17 minutes." Byakuya noted, looking at his incredibly opulent watch and noting the time. The entire journey had been cloaked in silence, no-one in the vehicle speaking, just deep in thought. As the car pulled in in front of the art deco inspired Ikami building and watched as his double stepped outside of the car, hopefully, to complete his end of the bargain for Byakuya. "Where to now, Young Master?" Aloysius questioned.

"Take me to the Hachigami hotel. I'll go book in a room there."

"Of course, Young Master." Aloysius hit the acceleration and continued further into the heart of the city. Buildings seemed to twist and warp around them, as the carnivorous maw of the city swallowed land and greenery to replace it with inhuman factories and the cold corporate buildings – sub-zero in the icy grasp of winter. Faceless everymen gazed through thin glass window, eyes as glazed as the windows they vacantly peered through. Byakuya averted his gaze from these watchmen, focusing on the cushy leather of the shotgun seat in front of him, too unsettled to peer further on.

The car pulled into the pavement beside the Hachigami hotel and Byakuya gracefully stepped out of the car, waving a goodbye to Aloysius as he left and gazed up at the imposing Hachigami building. Ornate, covered in ivy and the size of a skyscraper, it was the most luxurious hotel in the heart of the city there was. The main doors were covered in gold trimmings and patterns, with glass, shined to perfection and door handles shaped like fearsome dragons covered in what was undoubtedly pure silver, despite the fact the doors were automatic and detected motion.

Byakuya stepped through the and insanely fragrant and sweet smelling perfume invaded his nostrils as he did. The main lobby had a ceiling that towered uncountable storeys high, the ceiling itself hand-painted in the style of an artist such as Michelangelo may have painted in their prime, depicting beautiful people doing beautiful things. It crowned an opulent and breathtaking main lobby, in which sat a fountain of topless mermaids pouring out seemingly infinite amounts of water from their copper urns, now a stark green colour due to the hotel's age. Bellboys in uniforms of bloody crimson with gold trim on the hats, collars, and lapels carted around suitcases full of items worth more than the men and women who took such care of them, the Hachigami logo on their shirt pockets a sign of their servitude to the hotel. Byakuya looked down to see his reflection cast in the opal-coloured marble floor, staring directly back at him and not looking away. The main counter, in which was cast the Hachigami logo – and Ouroboros of twin dragons – gleaming with its gold finish was attended by a rather down and depressed looking fellow, his bright uniform offsetting his mood – if only slightly – and made its way as a semicircle around the back of the lobby as a dazzling chandelier cast pure light upon the two conversing souls.

"Give me a room." Byakuya stared down at the rather pale and sickly looking clerk who looked at him, cowering from Byakuya's leg to body ratio.

"O-of course, sir. What name is that in?"

"Togami. Byakuya."

"A-ah! Sir." The employee, his tag denoting him as Takuechi, bowed low.

"I don't expect an army salute from a peasant."

"O-of course!" Takuechi fumbled beneath the desk, finally grabbing a key, with which was attached a block of wood with the number 503 was imprinted, presumably carved into the wood by hand. "H-here you go, s-sir!" The boy's hand quivered as he passed Byakuya the key. Byakuya snatched the key out of his trembling grasp. "H-how many nights do you intend on staying?" Takuechi inquired.

"Just the one."

"Gotcha." Takuechi clicked his mouse and tapped his keyboard, inputting all of Byakuya's data. "P-pay here, s-sir." He held out a credit card reader, as Byakuya slid his credit card out of his pocket and into the slot of a card reader, charging him what was the equivalent of pennies for someone of his status. "E-enjoy your stay. Your room is on the fifth floor, just up the lift."

Byakuya exited the lift onto the fifth floor and walked onto the cushy carpet, detailed with intricate and intertwining patterns woven into them. He heard his silent footsteps impossibly echo off the walls, walking down the silent corridor to his room. He opened the door to his room, a spacious place with a king-sized bed and elaborate table carved from pure oak on which sat a lacquerware set were located down a small set of steps, at the top of which was located the ensuite bathroom. A few shelving units surrounded a TV, on which Bric a brac worth more than the Ryukyu islands sat. Byakuya lay down on the bed, softer than the softest velvet and sunk into it, turning on the TV with the remote from the oversized bedside table next to him and turned on the TV. A flash of blue, then the cold stare of a news reporter sitting on their bleak metal table, announcing the day by day. Two headlines caught his interest. The first was a story about an old 'friend' of his. "Famous clairvoyant Yasuhiro Hagakurae has announced his intentions to return home after a tour of the US. The pseudo-celebrity said on the matter 'It was nice, getting paid for this stuff, y'know? But I was called back home for some reason and the person who called me back… well, you listen to 'em. They're the law where I come from. Kinda literally.'" The man read from the Telecaster in front of him the details on the village idiot of Hope's Peak, which Byakuya attempted to drown out. The next story also involved a student, the man on the screen stating "Also today, the tribulations of the Kuzuryuu clan: are the police close to choking one of Japan's most notorious crime families?" Byakuya very much hoped the answer was a resounding yes. He couldn't care less for criminals, as he very much liked to mention around the _actual physical criminals_ in his school. As some more odd stories about things only really mentioned to pad the runtime of the show, Byakuya's phone buzzed. It was his father. "Son," it began, "The meeting with Kamiki is scheduled for 2 pm tomorrow. It will take place at our main building. Do not be late.

-Your father."

Byakuya looked at the grandfather clock in his room, watching the pendulum sway hypnotically, striking 2. In 24 Byakuya would be meeting with one of the meekest men in Japan and attempting to forge with him some form of deal. He did not feel like doing much for the rest of the day and reached for the telephone next to him. He pushed a few buttons and listened as the lobby asked what he would like. "Room service. 503. One of everything on the menu."


	13. Project 2, Finale - Fitter Happier

Assignment 2, Finale

Fitter Happier

It was a cold bright day in January and the clocks were striking fourteen. Byakuya Togami stood outside the beating heart of his family's empire, bitten by the stark wind that lambasted his face and hoping for a smooth deal. Opening the doors to the large building, he strolled past the main desk, unfazed by the sterile and white austerity of every wall in the building offset only by the six-figure pieces of art that occasionally hung on the wall, a tinge of colour in the static sea. Pressing a button to go to the 53rd floor, where his meeting would take place, he recalled the text he read from his imposter that his meeting had gone 'smoothly.' He had refused to respond much past that and his father hadn't responded at all, making Byakuya's normally foul self even fouler. As the whirr of the lift finally ceased, Byakuya noticed he hadn't paid much mind to the elevator music he himself had chosen. "Fitter, Happier, more productive…" It echoed, as Byakuya stepped out into the room to see the figure of Taichi Fujisaki, sitting on a couch outside of the boardroom, on the phone and crying.

Byakuya was not normally one to inquire after the health of someone, but he was supposed to be doing business with this man and decided to do so when the man got off the phone. "Y-yeah… mm-hmm…" he sniffed and hiccuped, then continued. "I'll be right over… and I'll put Byakuya on. W-wait until he goes to go with him? O-okay. G-goodbye." Taichi stood up and approached Byakuya, before handing him the phone with trembling fingers. "Hello?" Byakuya asked whoever was on the other end of the line.  
"Byakuya. You need t-" Kyoko's voice rang back on the other end.

"Kyoko? What're you doing talking to the parent of a student in the Academy?"

"This is a police issue. Do you really think the Ultimate Detective wouldn't be involved in some way with the police?"

" _What's_ a police issue?"

"Chihiro's been kidnapped."

"She's been _what_?" Byakuya tried to hide the shock in his voice. He suddenly understood why Taichi was crying.

"Mondo came to me to report him missing. I reviewed some footage, found that he was there one minute and the next he disappeared from where he traveling to. There was some tampering with the security cameras on site. I got the police involved, but we're waiting until tomorrow to tell everyone who could be considered suspect because the Academy wants everyone back there so they can initiate a lockdown. Mondo says he knows who did it but… I don't buy who he named. Get back ASAP. Goodbye."

"Wai-" The line buzzed as Kyoko hung up. "Dammit!" Byakuya pointed at Taichi. "What're you gonna do?"

"I-I was asked to go to the station." He sniffed out.

"Well, let's go. I'll have my butler take you to the station and me to Hope's Peak."

"Th-thank you."

"Hmph."

Byakuya entered the lift with Taichi. The atmosphere was harsh and oppressive, depressingly so. Taichi refused to meet Byakuya's gaze and his teeth were gritted in attempt to plug his tears. And – over all this, the music Byakuya hovered over the both of them.

"Calm.

Fitter.

Healthier.

And more productive.

A pig,

in a cage,

on antibiotics."


	14. The Interloper's Second Play

Act 2 Intermission:

The Interloper's Second Play

The Interloper walked down the bleached and barren halls of the Togami building, split off from the group who had allowed them to walk here. Their steps reverberated off the blank walls, seemingly carried by the uncanny cleanliness of the walls. The interloper began to sweat, their teeth grinding against one another feeling naked and exposed, the fluorescent lights stinging their skin, burning his skin. They controlled their breathing and continued to walk their path around the empty hallways, looking for an abandoned desk they could access.

"Why do you need a worm to siphon the money from the Togamis anyway? C-Can't it just pay off what you want?"

"Money is not merchandise. Money does not strike emotion into your heart. Figures on a screen are worth less than blood on the floor. The upkeep costs for our little shell will mean the stolen cash is more than enough."

The Interloper happened upon an employee information desk, abandoned like most everything in this lonely utopia. They ran their thumb around the flash drive in their pocket, no more than the size of his fingernail. They grasped it with trembling fingers. Suppose it was imperfect? Suppose the programmer overlooked something. People tended to do that when they had metaphorical guns to their heads. The Interloper was told to believe, to trust, but only in their superiors. Without a chance to compute what they were doing, they jammed the flash drive into the USB port of the PC at the information desk and breathed a sigh of relief, feeling as if he were Atlas released from holding up the heavens. They quickly turned on their heel and made for one of the lifts, not wanting to look back. There was only the bloody future. And a few last people on the hitlist.

"But… can we be sure this goes off without a hitch…? Should we even use the shell to our advantage? Could this whole thing just be called off?!" "It could always encounter a few minor alarms without being entirely jeopardized. In the case, the long and twisted means will reach and ends that will be soaked in no-one's blood, but built on the blood of the mind."

In the server banks of Togami Industries, a small worm began weaving its way to the bank account of a few employees of the company. They wouldn't need their pensions, surely. And so there it lay, striking when funds were required.

The Interloper once again walked into the smog and haze of the city. It felt real, tangible like stepping into a whole new dimension. They felt waves of relief wash over them, just happy to escape the oppressing austerity that enshrouded the Togami building. As the everymen of the streets walked beside them, hardly giving them a thought, never mind a glance, they felt safe. The Interloper found themselves basking in the greyness of the sky, the cold concrete, and tarmac of the pavements. Reality was cold, colourless and depressing – but it was also _reality_. Something one could root themselves in, find solace in, something obtainable and always within reach. And so The Interloper anchored themselves to it, for leaving reality was not in their interests. The poisonous industry air was sweet perfume.

Once again, The Interloper paid for a ticket on the machine, shouldered through the swathes of humanity that surrounded them and hopped on the monorail. As it thundered and sped down its track, The Interloper reflected on what they had done. They would be found guilty of so many crimes if this ever reached the light of day. But they were too far stepped in that to go back was to be as arduous as going forward and they were assured of their crimes being held from the sunlight forevermore.

"And supposing I get caught? What then?!"

"That is highly unlikely, but should it happen… the influence we hold will ensure you appear back in our custody in no time at all. Remember, you are as if a brave revolutionary, fighting for the land they love so much, patriotic zeal spurring them to their goal. I believe it was Shakespeare who once wrote the line 'screw your courage to the sticking-place and we shall not fail!'"

The Biker gang of the Crazy Diamonds and the Kuzuryuu crime family both represented serious threats to The Interloper's cause, mainly because of their influence and how easily they could find out about what The Interloper and their superiors were planning. But when told how to deal with this threat, The Interloper felt sick to their stomach. They stood on a bridge, a point where one Crazy Diamonds member often walked past on their daily routine. Their arms touching the cold steel barricades that would prevent the clumsy, the young or the suicidal from pitching onto the motorway below gnashed at their skin, the thin coat of ice smothering it would surely hurt to abscond from. Blurry, fast streaks of light from every make of car imaginable passed beneath their feet, seemingly trying to outrun the now setting winter sun which no longer began to cast its rays upon the land. The lampposts gave off a bright light that was harsh on the eyes, yet comforting in a way The Interloper could not describe. Intertia rushed at them as he recalled the earlier conversation.

"At 4:12 pm, Tsuyuniko Hisoi of the Crazy Diamonds will be walking across that bridge." Their superior passed them a compressed can of spray paint and a stencil with the spiral logo of the Kuzuryuu clan. "This," they passed him a small device in a box just big enough to fit in his pocket. It had a large grey button in its centre and blended into the concrete of the city. "Is a very small scale explosive device, that concentrates its blast upwards in a spike. It will not trip off any metal detectors, nor will it cause any structural damage to the bridge. Noise is… minimal as far as explosives go and we've tested it rigorously. The only thing you need to do is lay it on the ground where Hisoi will walk and wait. When he is no more than a memory on the pavements, take the spray can and stencil the emblem of the Kuzuryuus upon what remains of his body. You might want to be quick getting away." The Interloper's superior paused for thought, thinking about their masterstroke. "The two organizations will be too occupied with one another to bother wondering why two of their members are not bothering to return home. You, my friend..." The Interloper's superior smirked.

"are going to ignite a war."


	15. Project 3, Part 1

Assignment 3: Mondo and Fuyuhiko

(At each other's throats)

Welcome to the 3rd act in a five-act play. Perhaps you've already pieced together the end goal of this prologue. If you have, hats off to you. One must wonder what end goal requires this much planning, however. To understand this, we must retrace the third pair of steps, intertwined – but rather than drawn together by love or business, they are drawn into the only other strand of fate that exists in our world. For Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu and Mondo Owada will be bound by hate.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu was called in fifth, along with what seemed to be another criminal. Walking down the corridor four other pairs had waltzed along before, he noted how garish and stupid that odd pompadour looked on top of Mondo Owada's head.

"Tch." He announced, unknowingly lighting a fuse.

"What was that? You sound angry." Mondo glared down at him, a shade cast over his eyes by that goofy hairdo.

"This whole thing is a buncha bullshit. They put us together because we've been in the lockup and for no reason else."

"What did you expect exactly? They were gonna match you with Hifumi or Hagakurae? Yeah, right. You and Chihiro would've been good matches, you're both midgets."

"What was that, you dipshit?!" Fuyuhiko's height was not something he liked pointed out.

"Funny, can't hear you up here." There was no sarcasm or hint of the statement being a joke in Mondo's tone. It was entirely nonchalant, down to the way he put his hands in his pockets and rolled his neck upwards.

"What was that, bastard?!" Fuyuhiko had begun to blow his top and they had hardly been chatting a minute. But then again, one supposes there was bound to be friction there from the beginning. The Crazy Diamonds and Kuzuryuu clan weren't exactly on great terms. Violent clashes for turf and reputation, stolen product and drag races that ended in bloodshed had peppered the pasts of both factions – Mondo and Fuyuhiko were both well aware of this, it had caused a friction, slightly tangible to pull between them, their gazes unable to be removed from one another for fear the other would try something underhanded out of spite and bad blood.

"I'll ask you to repeat what you just said." Both stood stock still, looking at each other with hatred from conflict past that had not even shown its hand or invited them to get involved, but left them bitter and angry anyway. It was as if two gunmen were waiting for high noon to strike on the dull tones of a clock.

"Why should I, you little shit?"

"Because I refuse to be talked down to from a man who has no honour in his blood!"

"You wanna talk honour you little fuck?! How about you talk honour to my men you and your lackeys steal from, bully and brute force into giving what's theirs away?!"

"Oh, so it's my fault my family decided to collect debts from a group of delinquents who refused to fucking pay them?!"

"Delinquents?! The Crazy Diamonds share a bond you and your high and mighty family wish they fucking had!"

"A bond?! If riding around the streets all day with no end goal in sight is a 'bond' then any group of pissed drunkards could claim to be a fucking gang!"

"The fuck are you implying?!"

"Are you stupid? Has the exhaust fumes from those bikes finally fucked up your brain hard enough? You're just a group of organised alcoholics and junkies, led by a guy who was turned in roadkill because of you!" Fuyuhiko intentionally shot below the belt, feeling his anger at himself and his family being insulted too much too handle.

Of course, I should intercede and state that the death of Daiya Owada was very much known to crime families and delinquents across the nation, but only those with as much as a clutch of iron on elements within the police force would have such innate knowledge of what occurred as the Kuzuryuus. Fuyuhiko, due to his position within their ranks, would've been privy to such knowledge – and therefore be able to weaponise it against an aggressor.

"Why you little-!" Mondo hadn't felt this seething, white-hot anger in years. His malice was contented to lie down and take a rest when he met Taka and Chihiro, as it was rarely stoked by the two people he so loved to spend time with. It had long laid dormant and ponderous and when stoked, it seemed to consume Mondo's body. And so it happened that Mondo flung himself at Fuyuhiko, desperate to defend the honour of his gang and brother. He felt the smaller boy's body hit the floor and was satisfied with the hollow 'thunk' Fuyuhiko's skull sounded out when it hit the floor. "Die!" Mondo screeched, raising his fist high above his head and sending it crashing into Fuyuhiko's face. The amount of pleasure Mondo gained when his knuckle connected with Fuyuhiko's cheek was overwhelming – and most likely would've scared any onlooker. Adrenaline coursed throughout his body, an odd feeling (one would tend to describe as a shot of energy straight through one's stomach that dissipated to the surrounding areas of one's body) but one that brought him immense happiness nonetheless. It was a deep, almost carnal spur that formed that venomous grin, those rock-hard punches and the raw rage in Mondo's eyes. But that wild and beastly energy soon subsided as Mondo felt an uppercut directly to his gut draw the air from his lungs.

Fuyuhiko stood up and brushed the dirt off of the shoulder of his black suit, now mottled with specks of blood here and there. Mondo lay on the ground, reeling and winded from the powerful punch Fuyuhiko had landed while under the fury of Mondo's assault. "Don't ever fucking speak to me again, bastard," Fuyuhiko spoke icily and without compare, his oration as sharp and calm as a warrior's sword. He capped this brimming confidence off with a hardy point of his index finger. Despite the blood dribbling from his mouth and nose, he managed to look intimidating and strong, a David triumphing against his own Goliath. He slipped his hands into his pockets, produced some shutter shades that were as white as swan's down, slid them on and walked out, the winter sun casting a corona around his head.

Mondo stood up, his head swimming with agony and anger. He was beaten down by a manlet. He wouldn't forget that – much like a fake identity given to you by the world's greatest soldier, he would carry that with him wherever he went. Dusting himself off, he began to make his way to the back exit of the academy, eager to put distance between himself and the tiny terror. As he was approaching the doors, Ishimaru's loud, slightly obnoxious voice sounded throughout the corridor. "Hey, bro!" He yelled. Mondo was about to reply, drawing in breath to do so, but then an even louder voice reverberated around them. "MY NAME IS NEKOMARU NIDAI! NICE TO MEET YOU MONDO!" It was a voice that belonged to a video game character who spoke in all caps (in fact, he does, despite my reluctance) and made Mondo stagger backwards a bit.

"'Sup bro, 'sup big guy." Mondo looked at the towering form of the man who had introduced himself as Nekomaru – as he very well deserved the title of man with his shapely body – and warmed to him. He was a fan of the little guy, but he decided immediately this hulking tower of testosterone was actually a rather pleasant person if a little loud.

"Bro, this is my assigned partner! Isn't he great? He's a leader and a doer, much like myself!"

"Yeah, you two could really use a mute button. Jesus, I'll be fucked if there's a person on this planet louder than the muscle over there."

"Thank you! I take great pride in my ability to motivate through my voice!"

"Well, I'm not sure I'd call it motivational, but you do you." Mondo flashed a thumbs up at Nekomaru, who grinned wildly at this acceptance of friendship.

"How's your partner bro? I don't see him slash her. Gone to get started already? What a model student!"  
"I beat the fuck outta him until he was bloody and raw."

"Um," began Ishimaru.

"Ask me about that and I'll do the same to you. Less said, less internal organ damage I'll have to knock into ya later on."

"… I really wish someone were here to break this **awkward silence** right about now!" Nekomaru screamed. As if on cue, as if some magical God were typing words onto a page to have the timeline he might have made a pig's ear out of in the very first chapter (which he somewhat regrets writing first due to his passion for the characters involved in the aforementioned chapter) match up, Chihiro walked through the door.

"Well, how do I explain this..?" Fuyuhiko began, sitting on one of the rigid and uncomfortable stools in the chemistry lab. "My partner is a complete asshole who wants me dead and now I need you to fix the damage done to my face so someone like Komaeda or Kazuichi can't say I look like I was hit by a truck."

"I-I just asked you if your day was going well…" Mikan stuttered through her sentence, as she normally did.

"Yeah, well just do that… Ultimate Nurse shit and make the ouch go away."

"How did I you know I would be in the chemistry lab?"

"I decided either you're a chemist or a meth cook when it comes to what you do up here and since I don't see much evidence of chemistry up here, I'm assuming the only 'medicine' you make is the kind that I could buy in a back alley."  
"Eee! I'm sorry… but I really do make medicines up here! H-here! This one is an advanced pain-killer! Drink up!" Mikan produced a flask labelled 'Oh my God everything is numb' and pressed it against Fuyuhiko's lips. He pushed it away hastily with a finger.

"I-I'm not drinking that."

"Wh-why not? I'm so sorrrryyyy!" Mikan sniffled.

"Ugh. Gimme the flask. But only because I trust your talent and don't wanna hear you whine." Fuyuhiko snatched the flash from Mikan's hands with a quick wrist movement, causing her to gasp lightly. He swigged the solution, then stood up.

"Well, thanks for that."  
"You're welcome!" Mikan smiled a fragile, delicate smile. "Before you go, did you hear about Hajime?"

Fuyuhiko stopped walking and turned just his neck around to stare at Mikan, so only a single eye glared at her. "What about him?"

"E-Eek! F-Forget I said a-anything! I pr-probably shouldn't have told you about iiiit! I'm sorry!" Mikan wailed and began to cry. Fuyuhiko sighed, annoyed at Mikan's fragility.

"I'll just ask him myself. See ya." He walked out of the chemistry lab, his fingertips and nose already feeling numb because of the painkilling solution.

Mondo grabbed Chihiro by the neck and pulled him close, always happy to see his cute little form. "Heya, kid." He told him, ruffling that light-as-cloud hairdo of his. Chihiro blushed slightly and Kiyotaka gave him the usual "Hey, Chihiro!" with that stupidly large grin of his. Unfortunately, Nekomaru may not have associated Chihiro's looks with his frailty as he bellowed like a foghorn, "HI THERE! THE NAME'S NEKOMARU NIDAI!" Chihiro looked shook and went an even rosier shade of pink – though as Mondo noted he had already come through the doors looking quite flushed. He pondered on this for a second then discarded the thought, in much the same way as one would the wrapper off a piece of gum.

"O-oh my. Ummm, hello. My name's Chihiro Fujisaki. That's quite an introduction." Chihiro collected himself – something Mondo had taught him how to do – and spoke with courtesy and light tone to Nekomaru.

"Yeah. I like to make impressions, y'know?" Nekomaru almost seemed as if he were shrugging off the greeting, oddly nonchalant and passive – he had changed his tone to reflect the person he was speaking to, Mondo observed. That was how he had earned the talent he had – he was a people person, it seemed.

"My bro and Nekomaru hit it off the moment they met. You can tell why." Mondo looked down at Chihiro, still held close to his body and felt the soreness of earlier events seem to melt away.

"Where's your partner, Mondo?" Chihiro asked, tilting his head to one side. Mondo felt his mouth go dry. He didn't want to tell Chihiro he had violently lashed out and beat Fuyuhiko, that would ruin his chances of Chihiro ever training with him again.

"Ugh, I got put with Fuyuhiko. That fuckin' brat could use a beatdown, giving me lip like that." Mondo chose his words carefully as if he were hopping on spear-tips and could not flatten his feet for fear of being skewered. He said 'could use' rather than 'received', catching the attention of Kiyotaka, who seemed ready to correct this already sold contradiction until Mondo shot him a dirty look.

"I'm sure he's not _that_ bad, Mondo." Chihiro was as optimistic about strangers as he ever was, always giving that small smile that radiated goodwill.

"You're way too soft, kid."

"C'mon bro, why can't you just get along with people!" Mondo sometimes wondered why he surrounded himself with the likes of Chihiro and Taka, who always seemed so eager to jump to the defence of complete strangers.

"YEAH! Co-ordination is the key to success in any team!" Nekomaru (rather loudly) added. Mondo knew they could never know the true reason he decided to brutalise Fuyuhiko, so he just grinned and bore it. However, that was not to say he was interested in the conversation any longer, for Mondo was one to steer clear of any uncomfortable topics that could compromise the calmness he had broken for mere minutes only a quarter of an hour earlier.

"I swear if I stay here any longer my fucking eardrums will burst." Mondo turned around and began to walk away, feeling glad he had perhaps dodged a landmine.

"Bro! Wait!" Mondo winced and quickened his pace, turning a corner to try and escape Kiyotaka. "No running in the halls, Mondo!" Mondo ground to a halt, knowing a three-hour long seminar would come his way if he didn't freeze like a statue the instant Taka called that out.

"Ugh, fine. Whaddya wanna say? Let's walk and talk."

"Well, I just wanted to comment on how well you're doing flirting with Chihiro." Taka threw two hands up in the air, grinning that shit-eating grin as he did so, his idea of a congratulations. But Mondo was not pleased with the comment his friend had made. Perhaps his anger, now that it had reared its head once more, was more willing to reveal its form to the world as Mondo felt it rise in his chest again.

"Bro, I see him as a more of a brother than anything. Don't say shit like that." Mondo controlled his breathing, stopping himself from lashing out. What he said was true – he really had no romantic intent with Chihiro, he merely wanted to protect the boy and help him achieve his goals, but the comment Kiyotaka made had irked him anyway.

"Nonsense! I support your relationship one hundred percent, bro! Don't try and fool yourself, now!" Mondo felt the world stop moving and two things happened at this moment in time.

One. A pink-haired boy who Mondo recognized as Chihiro's project partner crossed beside Mondo, wrench in hand and beanie off, revealing that rat's nest of pink hair concealed underneath. He heightened Mondo's rage for reasons Mondo himself could not place.

Two. Mondo snapped. He tore the wrench from Kazuichi's grasp, causing Kazuichi to yelp in shock. Mondo's sudden shift in emotion also caught the attention of Kiyotaka, who was swift to start running. Mondo gave chase, yelling as they got to the crossroads that led down the corridors "Get back here, bro! I'm gonna fucking beat you up!"

Kiyotaka let out a scream that sounded like a pig being slaughtered and blurted out, "Sorry bro! I don't like the idea of that!"

A third step of footsteps followed behind, completely lacking in motivation and energy, knowing their attempt to catch up was useless. "C-could you two please get back here! I need my wrench, dammit!" They gave up, the sound of their footsteps growing quieter. "Agh! Forget it…" They said, admitting defeat.

Fuyuhiko was in the boiler room. That, he was distinctly aware of. What he wasn't aware of, however, was how exactly he had ended up here. His best guess was the numbing agent, which seemed to have stripped away precious hours from his memory. He stood there, completely vacant. And then, odd as it may sound to someone not dosed up like you or I (unless, of course, you are a hardcore junkie reading this, in which case I apologise), he began to hear voices. They started off as odd murmurs, a side effect of the painkiller, perhaps. But then Fuyuhiko noticed the sound was mono-directional, coming only from the left wall in the room. Though his mind was not completely there, he staggered over to the cold limestone of the wall and put his ear to it. He would later – perhaps by chance, though possibly not – forget what happened in that conversation, but what he did hear boggled the mind. An unknown voice, smooth as silk and oddly seductive gave instructions to someone who never really responded. "The matter of Fujisaki," is the what the fragment of conversation Fuyuhiko had listened in on began, "is simple. We know their route, highlighted here, and it will be taken four days from now. They can't fight back, they're weak." Fuyuhiko's head began to pound. The whistling of the pipes and gushing sounds of the water emitted from the massive boiler at the northernmost point of the room went right through him, blasting nauseating waves through his skull. "Industries has all the funds we need, get the weakling to create something we can patch in and acquire them from when you…" Fuyuhiko began to feel heavy. He couldn't feel his arms or his legs, or much anything come to that. He felt his body slump down the wall and darkness enveloped his vision.

"Fuyuhiko!" Fuyuhiko was awoken by a sharp slap to his cheek, which stung mildly for a few seconds. Hajime stood over him, however, Fuyuhiko was no longer in the damp and dank boiler room, but in the safety of his own bed with no recollection of the events prior. "It's like, 7 pm dude. You had us all worried – except Kazuichi, who's off doing his own thing." Hajime chastised.

"Wha- wha 'appen?" Fuyuhiko's speech was slurred and not quite right, like a man who has downed one too many a shot of vodka and is now regretting it the morning after.

"Hagakurae found you blanked out in the boiler room. What the hell were you doing there, man?"

"B-boiler room? Wha' boiler room? I never been to the boiler 'oom." Fuyuhiko's mind attempted to attach itself to the events occurring earlier but found it could not and so gave up in its futile attempt to reclaim the fragments of memory that lay scattered at the back of the Yakuza's mind.

"Seems like someone has been drinking one of Mikan's experiments," Hajime noted with a slight chuckle. Without warning the door burst open, kicked nearly off its hinges by Peko. "Young Master!" She cried out, running to the bedside and roundhouse kicking Hajime off of his stool. "Are you okay? Is there any major damage? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"I'm fine, Peko. An' don't call me 'oung Master." Fuyuhiko said through the static that burst itself around in his skull.

"Apologies, Yo- Fuyuhiko. I ask you forgive my worrying, you can clearly take care of yourself."

"Peko, the hell was that for?" Hajime groaned and lifted himself off of the ground. "Anyway, Fuyuhiko, I've got a favour to ask of you." He reached into his pocket and produced a small letter, freshly printed from the warmth of the paper and sheen on the ink that the words were printed in on the envelope. Fuyuhiko didn't even have to look at it to understand what was going on. Nor did Peko, who stood there, mouth agape.

"Is it that bad?" Fuyuhiko inquired. Hajime simply nodded back, his spirit crushed and looking as if he were a man who had just attended his own funeral. Peko closed her mouth and the room stood in a state of stark silence for a few solemn seconds before Peko cut through it, her mouth as powerful at alleviating the mood as what was sheathed on her own back. "We can help. We've already planned for this, everyone has a fund for this remember? We all chipped in." Hajime still stood rooted to the spot, voice shaky and quite clearly trying not to cry. The Academy really meant the world to him, it seemed. "I-I know. But I can't leave to post the letter and cheque, even if I wanted to." Peko made a sudden movement and grabbed the letter from Hajime's grasp.

"Fuyuhiko. Would it make you happy if Hajime stayed at Hope's Peak?" She stared at him with hardened eyes of steel, eagerly awaiting his response.

"Of cour-" Fuyuhiko didn't have time to finish his sentence before Peko had dashed out of the room with the letter, a woman possessed and on a mission from a higher power.

"… well, I guess that's my cue. Get some rest, okay?" Hajime grinned at Fuyuhiko and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Mondo walked to back to his room feeling notedly emptier. Kiyotaka had managed to run back to Nekomaru, who Mondo did not want to cross and proceeded to leave to meet with a few others at the gym. Mondo had done menial tasks to stave off the boredom and loneliness and so was glad when he finally got to his room at midnight and began to undress, taking his jacket off, he heard a knock at his door. His mood was not improved upon opening it.

"…Hey." A nervous voice, belonging to Kazuichi said. The sight of him filled Mondo with a looming sense of dread and defeat for no apparent reason and he was glad he had filled his day with menial tasks such as homework (due in three months ago) and idle chit-chat (fortune telling with Hagakurae was surprisingly fun, though an odd vision in his crystal ball sent him running in the direction of the boiler room in the underbelly of Hope's Peak) for if he had set eyes on Kazuichi during the day – unaware that was impossible as Kazuichi was cooped up in his own little world – he would surely be returning to his room not only empty, but downright depressed.

"You want your wrench back, I'm guessing? Here." Mondo fished around in the pockets of his pants, eager to close the door and say goodbye to Kazuichi. He handed the wrench to the boy who, to Mondo's chagrin, opened his mouth once more.

"Wait, can I ask you a favour? It… It doesn't concern me, so I thought I'd ask." Mondo was in no mood to grant favours, but he also wanted the conversation to pass quickly.

"Shoot." He responded.

"It's about Chihiro." Mondo bit down hard on his tongue, feeling his anger begin to froth and rise to the surface once more. "I-I can't believe I'm saying this, but I had to carry her back to her room…" Mondo clenched his fists. He no longer wanted the conversation to finish quickly, he wanted more words he could use to fuel his rage towards this lanky punk when he finally decided to do to him what he did to Fuyuhiko. "… and I just wanna make sure she's okay, but I-I'm e-embarrassed to do it myself. Could- could you check on her for me?" Mondo cooled down slightly. He was willing to accept the favour now. It was something he did most mornings anyway, so he reasoned he shouldn't get mad at it. "Sure. Goodbye." Mondo slammed the door on Kazuichi, feeling drained and listless after the parlay, falling asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Meanwhile, Fuyuhiko shivered as his footsteps crunched through the frosty grass of the small hill near the back edge of the wall bordering Hope's Peak. On top of it stood a weeping willow, its tendrils of leaves coated in a fine layer of frost that shimmered and refracted rainbows of moonlight, serene and constant in the ever-changing landscape of Hope's Peak. At its base, a small bench sat (also coated in frost) where one could sit and see a view of the city just over the large concrete and brick structure that surrounded them.

And sit there Fuyuhiko did. It was a beautiful night to freeze. Stars hung in the sky like teardrops held there by time, gleaming in all their melancholy beauty. The night sky wept, leaving Fuyuhiko with a nostalgic feeling within him for absolutely no time or place at all. What he would give to sit here with anyone, just pointing at the stars and making conversation about the wonderful everyday. A tear pricked at Fuyuhiko's left eye and a voice said beside him, "I am not so easily moved, but this night sky… it always leaves you like this, huh?" Kyoko Kirigiri was also crying, pale as a ghost and sitting next to him.

"How'd you get here?" She seemed to just spontaneously appear from the air next to Fuyuhiko.

"I approached and sat next to you. You were just too busy remembering the nothing that is our pasts."

"You think you're deep, don't you?" Kyoko smirked, enjoying the quick wit of the Yakuza's comments.

"Perhaps I do, Kuzuryuu, perhaps I do." She paused for a second, then continued. "Do you know why I am here?"

"Because you couldn't sleep, like me?"

"No, not that."

"Then what is it then?" Fuyuhiko couldn't help but wonder what such an enigmatic figure was doing here at 1 am.

"I'm scared, Fuyuhiko." This answer shocked him greatly, what was there to be scared about within Hope's Peak? There weren't any exams, they were well looked after… Fuyuhiko did not have time to continue his train of thought, however. "I suppose I shall give you a message, considering you are here and I see no reason not to confide about what is troubling me so."

"Go ahead, I'm all ears. And I won't tell anyone either, Yakuza's promise."

"Odd for a Yakuza to have such a deep-rooted sense of honour. Or is it? Perhaps it's common with gang members like you. Judging from the discolouration under your nostrils and bottom lip which suggests washed away blood, I take it you met Mondo."

"Just gimme the damn message."

Kyoko bit her lip, pondered whether she should tell Fuyuhiko what information she had bottled within her, then simply stated a message that left Fuyuhiko shivering more than the cold air around them:

"We are all in grave danger."

And with that ominous she was gone, walking away quickly like a bird awing. "Wait, what do you mean? What's happening?" Fuyuhiko called after her. But it was futile. His voice may as well have just been another gust of wind.

And so, Fuyuhiko sat there with a growing sense of dread festering within his stomach. His mind relayed the statement to himself over and over, feeling like it was just some weird dream. But the air that bit at his nose, the wind that chilled his ears, all told him he was very much awake. You don't ignore warnings from people like Kyoko Kirigiri, he thought, as exhaustion took hold and he fell asleep on the bench.


	16. Project 3, Part 2

Assignment 3, Part 2

The Divide Worsens

Mondo woke up earlier than usual and threw open his blinds to a dark sky. He began to shiver and his teeth chattered together, which often happened to him when he woke up in the early morning for some unknown reason. The hole in his stomach had grown deeper and ever wider overnight and was immediately apparent when Mondo first woke and felt it. He pondered on whether if one were to throw a rock down it if that stone would ever see the bottom. The width and depth of the hole consumed even the anger and contempt he felt towards Fuyuhiko which still frothed and bubbled within him. He quickly took a shower to stop his shivering and made sure his pompadour his in perfect form, before throwing on his jacket and watching as the sun began to rise. The thin rays that shone forth and cast their golden radiance on Mondo's skin through the bare-naked branches of the school grounds' trees warmed him greater and – upon the sphere being three-quarters of its entire glory and the clock striking nine, Mondo decided he would make good on his promise and headed to Chihiro's room.

He gulped down his dread – which he resented being attached to someone such as Chihiro – and knocked on his door with a feathery _rap-tap-tap_. Chihiro opened the door around half a minute later, blushing profusely for a reason Mondo didn't know about but found disconcerting anyway. "Oh, hello Mondo." Chihiro smiled up at him and bounced on his tiptoes.

"Hey, you're awake. I take it you read the notes your friend left you?" Upon this query, Chihiro blushed deeper which caused a slight acid reflux in Mondo's throat which he had to quickly swallow down, slightly burning his throat in the process.

"Yeah." Chihiro nodded then pulled a confused look. "Wait, how'd you know about those?"

"He came knocking at my door at my door early this morning." Mondo lied, trying to paint Kazuichi in a less caring light then he cared to admit. "Seemed pissed. Turns out, I hadn't returned that wrench of his… Anyway, when I was about to slam the door in his face, he softened up a bit and asked me to check on you. Man, you've got lucky you got a softie like that to do your project with you." Mondo tried to hide his real feelings by rambling and stringing together compliments.

"Mondo…" Chihiro tried to interrupt.

"If you'd got paired with an asshole I'd make sure he'd get beat to a fucking pulp before he'd lay a finger on you!" Alas, that word vomit led to Mondo revealing his true intentions and hoping Chihiro wouldn't catch on.

"Mondo!" Chihiro interrupted successfully this time, catching Mondo's attention with his outburst.

"Jeez, that was unusually aggressive. Whaddya want?"

"It's fine, honestly. The project's going well." Chihiro looked vacant when he said that, turning his gaze towards the floor and smiling sweetly.

"You sure? The ass beating's still on the table." Mondo was as subtle as a bull in a china shop and had to avoid winking at Chihiro to reveal his emotions. This slightly disturbed Chihiro, who wasn't a fan of the implied violence against Kazuichi and scolded Mondo:  
"Seriously, cut it out! It's fine!"

"Tch. Better than how it's going for me, at least. I and that little Yakuza shit haven't talked since one." Mondo changed the subject quickly.

"Well… maybe you should try talking to him?" That suggestion made Mondo feel sicker still.

"Yeah, right. Well, see you around." Mondo was done with his conversation with Chihiro and as he left the room, he realised his dread had turned to something else – fear.

Fuyuhiko groaned and opened his eyes – which felt superglued together – and breathed shallowly as his eyes burned and adjusted to the light, which streamed through the buildings of the city and hit his irises with an oppressively harsh shade of yellow. His aching neck hit him like a bullet made of ice and he wrapped his hand around it in a desperate attempt to warm it with his numb fingers – which themselves felt like they had been left in a freezer – which proved fruitless. He got up from the bench, which took a while due to how much his body seemed to be soldered to the wooden frame and stretched. Looking behind him from the hill, he saw the academy and remembered he had to be at Kazuichi's dorm. At least that meant warmth, he thought to himself, seeing how his fingers felt like they were icicles and he was pretty sure he could feel frost particulate in his lungs whenever he breathed in air slightly above zero degrees centigrade.

Fuyuhiko's bones and joints creaked and ached like an old door all the way to Kazuichi's dorm, though the warm interior of Hope's Peak granted slight solace and began to thaw his body just slightly. By the time he had gotten to Kazuichi's dorm most of his right hand had regained enough feeling for him to clasp the doorknob, turn it slightly and open the door to find Hajime looking dejected, slumped on an armchair and Kazuichi sprawled across the couch like a cat. He nodded at the two, who nodded back and sat himself on a chair opposite Hajime. "What's gotten into the both of you?" Fuyuhiko spoke through blue lips.

"Hajime's all depressed because the 'Servies just do regular schoolwork and not cool shit."

"Well, Makoto may as well just be a 'Servie like me considering how he even got into this place to begin with."

"Hey, if it's any consolation I'm pretty much doing nothing this term."

"Well, at least you guys get a whole term to just do _something_. God, the reserve course is just mind-numbing right now."

Fuyuhiko felt a bitterness rise in his gut as he thought about exactly why he was doing nothing.

"Yeah well in my case _something_ means nothing, because that biker punk thinks he can talk down to me because he's a foot taller. Who the fuck does he think he is?!" Fuyuhiko punctuated this anger with a hearty punch to the varnished oak of the chair-frame.

Kazuichi, who was usually ever-present in most conversations seemed unusually distracted and seemed eager to get onto viewing the film. "…I called you both here so we could watch a movie, not have a group therapy session…" Seconds after saying this Kazuichi blushed and pulled odds and ends from his pockets, his pupils buzzing and fingers lacing around them. He seemed to momentarily forget he was even there and repeated himself. "Well, I invited you both here so we could watch bad movies, and we've not done that yet. Let's get started, okay?"

"Whatever you say." Hajime and Fuyuhiko responded in unison.

"Mondo."

"Kyoko." And then silence. Deafening silence. Kyoko had called Mondo here for a reason, though God knows what it was considering she'd only said his name and nothing else past that as of yet. "You're probably wondering why I asked you to meet me here." The two were sat on the stage of the auditorium, looking at the vast seating area spread among them.  
"This one of your detective flicks? If you've got something important to tell me, cut the BS."

"Hmph. Well, I suppose I've never much much been one for the dramatic, so I suppose I'll cede to that request. Put simply: I've taken the duty of warning people I consider trustworthy or useful about something over the past few days."

"' _Something'_? Listen, if you're gonna warn people about anything you gotta be a bit more fuckin' specific than just ' _something_ '." Mondo scoffed.

"You sound like Byakuya right now." Kyoko pressed her index and middle finger to her forehead, closed her eyes and pursed her lips. "Okay, I can only describe it as a something because I don't know what else to call it. A conspiracy, perhaps?"

"Conspiracy? Like the Bermuda Triangle or the Illuminati or some shit?" 

"You've been watching way too many Western shows. I mean conspiracy as in conspiracy to commit a crime – and before you ask, no I don't _what_ crime but I do know it has the possibility of being a danger to us all."  
"Oh yeah? And why exactly do you think that?"  
"Mondo, do you know what's underneath this auditorium?"  
"Uhh… the places where they keeps props and shit."  
Kyoko scoffed in much the same way Mondo did earlier. "No, I mean the room below it."

"Ummm… the library?"  
"Why would there ever be a library underneath an auditorium?"

"You were the one that fuckin' asked!"

"The boiler room! It's the boiler room." Mondo was confused.

"What's so special about the boiler…?"

"Not much. But your… partner-"  
"That little shit is not my-"  
"Why do think I was being tentative? My point is, Fuyuhiko was wandering down there in a state of delirium after being dosed with something by Mikan. I decided to check it out a few hours later – what attracted him to wander down to the boiler room?"

"Do I care…?"  
"Zip it and let me speak. It was there I heard voices that confirmed my suspicions."

"Where exactly did those suspicions come from?"  
"Hope's Peak – like a lot of other institutions – has become too comfortable in their position these past few years. They do a lot of shady things, put bluntly. One of these happened to come in a few months back. I wasn't here at the time."

"Ah-! You mean when you were on loan to that police station?"

"Yes, the Shibuya prefecture transfer. That's where Hope's Peak sends all of its documents, so they tried to stop me from being transferred and stationed there for the month but were unsuccessful. One night a document came through to be put immediately into the shredder, bearing our academy's insignia. I was interested in what it said and smooth talked my superior's into allowing me a peek. It was mainly just redactions, to protect the identities of people, but there was a list totalling thirty-two. I have an inkling that was a list of Class 77 and 78's students."  
"And what you heard yesterday confirmed those suspicions, right?"

"Mmm hmm. It was muffled, but there was a voice, faintly audible, speaking behind one of the walls. I'm still trying to piece together what I heard but someone was giving instructions to another person regarding Byakuya and something to do with his father's company. I couldn't stay long, though."

"And…? What am I meant to do with this fuckin' information?"  
"Be wary…? I don't deliver warnings for fun, you know." And with her footsteps echoing throughout the auditorium, Kyoko took her leave.

"Uhh, thank you?"  
"Well, I'll take my leave now. If you can find out anything – anything at all, do not hesitate to tell me. We need to be proactive rather than reactive now. I can't shake this feeling in my gut that what's about to happen is very grave indeed."

Fuyuhiko blinked twice, three times and let his eyes adjust to the light outside Kazuichi's dorm and yawned, stretching as Hajime wandered away to the side of him. "Oh, you're tired too Fuyuhiko?" he heard a familiar voice question. Chiaki was standing at the door of Nagito's room, trying to reach the peephole which was slightly above her height due to Nagito's door – nay, his entire being – happening to be slightly defunct. "Get on my shoulders and help me out with this." She held up a reflective spyglass that would allow him to see through the peephole.

"Whoa, why are we spying on Nagito?"

"Last night I was in the middle of a practice speedrun and then the power cut out. I checked this floor's breaker and Nagito's room was eating it alllll up. I wanna see what he's doing in there."

"Ummm… okay…" Fuyuhiko grabbed the spyglass and began to clamber on top of Chiaki's shoulders. When she had clasped his legs, he put the spyglass to his eye and peered into Nagito's room. He was always naturally suspicious of the guy, a tad influenced by Kazuichi's similar suspicions. But what he saw through the warped image was beyond weird. A Lovecraftian mess of wires curled and weaving, dipped and bobbed and snaked their way around the room, all leading to a location behind the standard dorm partition.

"Well whaddya see?" Chiaki inquired.

"Uhhh… wires. And a lot of 'em. Looks like they're all hooked up to something around the partition."

"Hm. Well, typical Nagito." Chiaki murmured as Fuyuhiko dismounted her.

"T-Typical Nagito?! He's got a fuckton of wires hooked up to God-knows-what and you're just shrugging it off?!"

"It's Nagito." She said, wandering away. "He's always like this."

Evening struck the academy and Yasuhiro had begun to to make his rounds, wishing to invite his available classmates to game night, in order to break the ice. The first room on his list was Mondo, which was apparent to the student in question when, upon his door being opened, he inquired about the guest list. "I can't say who and who won't be there, because you're kind the first dude I asked." Yasuhiro chuckled.

"Well, d'you anyone who won't be there?"  
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…"

"C'mon, think! Use what little brains you have."

"I think Kazuichi is occupied with Chihiro, so they won't be there."

"O-Occupied? With Chihiro?" Now, dear reader, you may have picked up on the fact that Mondo is what is colloquially known as a 'helicopter parent'. And most of these parents, as a matter of fact, would not enjoy their child becoming close with a boy who could pierce flesh with his teeth and looks rather like a neon light display or scene album-cover.

"That's what I just said, right?"

"I'll think about it." Mondo said, feeling as if he'd been hit with a ten-ton truck and was now going through an out-of-body experience. Yasuhiro closed the door behind him as Mondo collasped onto the bed and fell asleep with exact same feeling of dread as the night earlier.

Meanwhile, Fuyuhiko avoided game night for much the same reason – he feared Mondo being there and as such decided it would be best to forego the whole sore experience and slept, confused thoughts of Nagito's room racing through his head, disturbing him greatly.

(And this is the part where I apologise for my month-long hiatus. I truly am sorry, especially about this chapter being extremely short. I hopefully won't disappear for weeks on end now, I'll try and cough out chapters at most weekly now. Thank you, reader, for being patient.)


	17. Project 3, Part 3

Project 3, Part 3:

War, Recommence!

The small UI on the left-hand side of the monitor flashed 6:12 am. Fuyuhiko had been at this for half an hour now and he was in no better mind than when he started. A gaunt shade of winter blue pressed against the windows next to him and stirred the whole room into a freakish chill, which his body did not take well, convulsing regularly to remind him that:

A) He was still alive,

and B) He most definitely needed more layers than a pinstripe suit-and-tie and shirt when it was this early into the new year. Every movement he made with his fingers ached, though he could not feel the tips, and he swore at times he could hear his leg-bones creak as he moved them as the silence and blinking blue lights were the only accompaniments to the occasional long, drawn-out sigh or expletive that escaped his lips. Fuyuhiko was here to do one thing and one thing only: knock that bastard Mondo down a peg or two and preferably not get injured in the process. But to do this he would need a new style of warfare, one completely new to him, that being information. And by God, there was a lot of it out there. The Crazy Diamonds (which Fuyuhiko suspected stemmed less from Pink Floyd and perhaps from a piece of media more close to home) were notorious for both their brazenness and young leader. Much like the Yakuza, there was some order and rules to be followed but they were enforced to a much stricter degree – for example the _Tokyo Times_ reported on a recent looting of a shop (owing protection money) on the outskirts of the city carried out by four Crazy Diamonds members, in which 6 innocent bystanders were killed. An inside source from the gang told the _Times_ that these members got off with a 'light scolding' at best. In the Yakuza avoiding the endangerment of innocents wherever necessary was a rule to be kept and respected. Kill a few more than seems absolutely necessary? You could face exile – or something far more grisly.

Fuyuhiko had only been searching for an hour and already the infractions upon Mondo's dignity, dishonour and misconduct had begun to add up. His brother proceeding him had an air of respectability about him, some lines he would not cross, sometimes he even seemed to show mercy, but Mondo was an insecure hulking mass of testosterone and anything that gave him more clout, resources, or secured the trust of individuals in the gang he would take, even if it meant overstepping many boundaries and codes of honour (unwritten as they may be). Fuyuhiko knew what it was like to fear for your life when in a position of power, but Mondo had gone about it like a complete rookie and it showed. This was information available for the _public_ to see for goodness sake's! Imagine what dirt Fuyuhiko could dig up if he asked some of his contacts for it… While relishing that thought, he heard the door open and quickly snapped back to reality, opening a news tab and pretending to look through it. A boy spoke from next to him. "…What's a Yakuza doing here?" Byakuya asked. Immediately Fuyuhiko knew why he was here, but put that on hold for the moment.

"Well, I ain't working on my fuckin' project, so…" Fuyuhiko paused for thought and then decided he'd speak his mind to this smarmy-looking Class 78 member. "Your classmates are all assholes, y'know that? That detective and biker especially. I'm guessing Peko came to see you?"

"That she did." Byakuya sat next to Fuyuhiko, which caused his stomach to turn. Ugh, _rich people_ , he thought. "And I've got the cost covered." Byakuya smirked, which unnerved Fuyuhiko. He never really liked how people like Byakuya saw the Yakuza, to them it was an inconvenience that stopped them amassing even larger amounts of wealth. Some even laid spies in the organisation – Fuyuhiko remembered the first execution he had ever witnessed was a Shinoko Corp. spy who was found relaying information to his boss – who in turn was in league with the police. His brains took a few hours to clean from the cracks between the pavement and he had never seen a man so ugly and unwilling to go in his final moments. Why should one be frightened of dying, anyway? There's no reason for it, we've all go to go sometime. This discombobulated train of thinking came out of Fuyuhiko's mouth as:

"...that money isn't dirty, you know." If Byakuya was suspicious of this, he didn't show it.

"I never even asked about – or insinuated – that." Byakuya responded.

"Yeah, I know but it's just. Some of it is mine, but I got that through our family's more… legitimate businesses. We have a literal princess in our class, for fuck's sake! Nagito tried to get around 15 thousand yen from an ATM but the lucky bastard got 150 thousand instead. Chiaki gave some of her money from those gaming tournaments she wins. And Kazuichi-" Fuyuhiko's voice broke as he thought of his friend. He had often mentioned how shoestring everything was back at his old man's shop, how he was beaten when it came to being even slightly wasteful of money. And yet, he had given for the greater good. Sure, he was a creep… but that boy deserved the world sometimes. And someone better than Sonia. "Kazuichi didn't even have to chip in, but he did… fuck his bleeding heart attitude. We never even told Peko about that, she'd tell him to return it immediately. Yeah, it was only 7.5 thousand but… ugh." Byakuya looked entirely unamused by the whole outburst.

"I didn't ask you to tell me all that." This, oddly, caused Fuyuhiko to laugh dryly.

"Yeah, no shit. But you're the only one who knows about this whole reserve course bullshit and I had to get that off my chest." Byakuya merely shrugged, acting like emotions were beneath him and got up to leave. Fuyuhiko felt wrong at not showing at least some form of gratitude, calling out, "Hey. Thanks for helping out Hajime."

"Whatever." 

Mondo sat around with nothing to do. Taka was out with Nekomaru again, thinking about what Chihiro could be doing made him feel physically ill and the gym was occupied so there wasn't much else to do but just sit there and… _mope_. Moping was a completely new experience for Mondo. Sure, there was grief and self-pity and anger and every other emotion on the goddamn spectrum but moping was this odd mix of sadness and boredom that Mondo – the hyper ball of rage he was – had not taken well to. He had considered doing a few things to stave this boredom off – ranging from going for a run to pinning someone's face (two individuals came to mind) to a punching bag and seeing how quick it would take to beat the stuffing out of it. But, seeing as nothing came to mind, he chose to nap instead. But even this action was quickly interrupted by Kyoko, who pounded on the door with all her might and demanded he opened up. Though technically, he thought as he opened the door, they were.

"This part of your job description? Jesus, it's like the damn police are round again."

"Mondo, I need your help with something. It requires a lot of brawn and preferably little brain to think about the morals of the situation, the cost and the years of mental trauma you'll be visiting upon a person by destroying a good chunk of personal scientific research."

Mondo blinked twice. "You lost me after 'brawn.'"

"Perfect, come with me to the chemistry lab. I'll explain the rest on the way. This'll get rid of that bored look in your eyes."

Mikan stood polishing some test tubes, enjoying the cute little squeaky sounds they made, when one suddenly went flying past her face and shattered, causing her to squeal in fear. "Wah! W-Who's there?"

"Good work, Mondo! Keep smashing everything here that looks like it could be used to make more aphrodisiacs."

"W-Wait, what's this about aprodisi—AH!" Mikan ducked as a stool flew past her head and collided with a rack of test tubes containing various solutions. "M-My babies…" She choked up as they pooled their contents onto the floor. "Those were bromide concentrates…" she sniffed. "If a-anything, they'd be the exact opposite of a-aphro-"

"Sorry about this, Mikan." Kyoko said, as she swerved out of the way of a projectile conical flask that had ingnited. "So he's even managing to set glass on fire… impressive…"

"Y-You Class 78 people are a bunch of meanies! Even more than Hiyoko! Explain yourselves!" Mikan snapped, showing that she still had a few vertebrae left in that spine of hers.

"Do I even need to explain past 'chemical lab' and 'aphrodisiacs'?" She asked as Mondo lifted a stool high overhead and brought them down on a plethora of glass bottles all labelled 'corrosive', causing a large smashing sound to sound around the room, following by a hissing noise. "This school really thought Teruteru and Hifumi were a good combination?"

"Oh… So that's why they were asking after me…" Mikan flushed red from embarrassment.

"Yeah, I saw them carrying some… suspicious liquids into the kitchen with them."

"W-Well, I haven't made any more! So call your dog off, please!" Mikan pointed to Mondo with a shaking finger.

"Mondo, you can stop causing hundreds of thousands in untold property damage now!" Kyoko turned to Mikan. "And, ah, don't worry. I'll have Naegi clean this up later. Anyway, if they ask for more, just decline, okay? Come on, Mondo, we're leaving." The two turned around and left the ruined lab, leaving Mikan standing in the middle of what looked like an active warzone.

"…you could've started with that last bit about declining…" She whined, though they were already gone.

Mondo lay down on his bed and sighed. What a cathartic day! The boredom of before was now replaced with exhilaration as the events earlier in the day replayed over in mind. Oh, if only he could dole out a smashing like that onto one of his two problems, then he would truly be in paradise! He considered Kirigiri a very good candidate for a replacement Taka (for the time being, no-one could break a bromance as strong as theirs forever), as long as he could continue with work like that. He laughed a simple laugh of pleasure as he remembered how many shards those stupid empty test tubes splintered into. And aphrodisiacs at this big banquet or whatever? Bah, he couldn't care less about trite like that. It wouldn't affect him in any negative way – or so he thought. And so, Mondo fell asleep, dreaming dreams of broken glass and burning rooms.

Fuyuhiko was utterly exhausted. He had spent eight hours toiling away at his computer, finding more information on the Crazy Diamonds. He had just gotten off the phone with one of his contacts, calling in a favour to find out more about the gang and its members. Surely there had to be someone close to Mondo he could exploit? He thought about this as he collapsed onto the bed and felt his back ache into a relaxed state. This whole thing fucking blew. He knew it'd be worth it in the end to expose Mondo as the guttersnipe of a gang leader he truly was, but was investigative work ever time-consuming and annoying. He couldn't trust half of the sources on this damn list, anyway. He wished Peko were in his room right now. She'd give him the right motivation to continue. Or maybe Kazuichi. He'd give him one of his hard-luck stories and then laugh about it afterwards, as if his suffering was a source of entertainment, something at which everyone could point and laugh at and then feel better about themselves because there was nothing easier than punching down. Hajime showed that, too. He faced slack from everyone in the class at times for attending their lessons when he was reserve course, but he was that close to everyone (and that loaded) that he could do so without a worry. But they weren't here. And Fuyuhiko felt ever more dismally lonely as he slipped under the covers and began to snore.


	18. Project 3, Part 4

Project 3, Part 4

Fighting By Starlight

A few shrill beeps from the clock on the nightstand signalled it was time for Fuyuhiko to wake up. He sighed as he pulled the covers off his bed and looked out to see that same blue light as yesterday, still equal parts cold and gloomy. He thought about getting up, but instead opted to sling the covers back over himself and just lie there, where it was actually warm and he didn't have to move his still aching bones. He was thinking about perhaps just staying in a permanent vegetative state for the rest of days but that, like so many things nowadays, was interrupted by a single knock. Fuyuhiko decided he'd best take the warmth with him, so wrapped the blankets around himself in an odd makeshift toga and jumped towards the door, with little regard for self-dignity. As soon as he opened the door, he was met by a disapproving look which softened immediately, one belonging to Makoto Naegi. "Is now the right time?" He asked, holding a clipboard.

"What makes you think it isn't?" Fuyuhiko growled. Makoto scanned up and down Fuyuhiko's blanket-clad body before deciding against saying something witty.

"Uhh, there'll be a dinner at the pavilion tonight and…"

"I'll be there."

"O-oh. I wasn't expecting a response that quickly."

"You think I got anything fuckin' better to do with my time? If there's good food and good people, of course I'll be there."

"Well, thank you. This makes my job easier, I suppose." Makoto's pen scratched against the paper on the clipboard before he took his leave down the hallway. Fuyuhiko slithered back into bed and closed his eyes again, feeling completely unmotivated. But – assuming that detective was there – he could possibly get some answers to whatever odd danger was looming over them – fantasy or not.

Mondo trudged through the frost-tipped grass, every step making a satisfying crunch and making the ground sink under his feet. The winter sun had already turned a good amount of the frost into morning dew, which sparkled and danced in the cold light, making everything around him feel a good bit warmer than it actually was. He'd been visited by Makoto in the morning to ask about some dinner or whatever and he'd agreed to attend because, for the past few days at least, all he had done was get lost in his own emotions and destroy someone's property. He needed a change of pace, something new, and the first step towards that would probably be by soothing the sick feeling in his stomach he got whenever he thought about Chihiro these days. The door to the workshop he had spent the past few days holed up in slid open with ease, creaking slightly as it did so. The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead greeted his ears as he closed the door behind him and the cold with it. Chihiro was messing around with an odd machine, humming as he moved its arms up and down and giggling to himself. Mondo pulled up a chair next to him and surveyed the desk – eight cardboard boxes were stacked neatly around the perimeter of it, and Chihiro's elbow slightly obscured one of the sketches made on a large blueprint, looking like a toy robot Mondo had seen in old shopfronts. He pulled upa seat beside Chihiro, listening to how it grated against the floor and watching as Chihiro looked up, smiling. He felt the knot in his stomach untie itself as he did so, but a new one form too – one of regret. He felt bad for worrying about Chihiro and the company he kept and also felt (though it was out of control) he would quite like to speak to Taka once more, despite the fact he was completely engrossed in his work. Whether this soothing feeling would last for long would be another matter entirely, however.

"Hey, kid." Mondo grinned. "How's it going? The punk still treating you nice?" Mondo, for perhaps the last time, mentioned Kazuichi without a hint of venom on his tongue or a ball of anger in his chest. "So, what're you doing here?"

"Nothing much, just finishing up the project."

"Heh, still not started mine."

"You still got that grudge?" Chihiro looked concerned. "T-That's really unhealthy."  
"Bah, so what? I fail this? Like they're gonna kick me out. Besides, I'm getting free food now. Who am I to complain?"

"I-I suppose." Chihiro finished fiddling around with whatever he was messing with and turned to Mondo, sighing.

"Hey, whaddya reckon to training tomorrow?" Mondo asked, feeling slightly regretful he'd made Chihiro worried. "It's Friday, so it should be the perfect time. And, once you're done with this," he added, perhaps with a bit of a threatening undertone that shouldn't have been there considering who he was talking to, "no more distractions, right? I mean, anything to distance ourselves from that yakuza shit and his friends, right?"

"Y-yeah… right." Chihiro suddenly looked away at the mention of Fuyuhiko's friends and Mondo could almost feel the temperature in the room drop. He gulped down a wad of spit that found itself lodged in his throat.

"What's with that pause? I don't like that pause. That's the 'Mondo I'm keeping secrets from you' pause." Whatever the next sentence was, Mondo was sure he wasn't going to enjoy it.

"…well it's actually about Kazuichi…" Mondo bit down hard enough to nearly crack a tooth. He didn't trust the appearance of that punk – he looked every bit the worst type of thug imaginable, one even deplorable enough to raise his hand to one he assumed to be a woman.

"Oh no, I knew it. He's actually an asshole, isn't he?" Mondo went to rise from his seat. "Well, he won't know what hit him, the little shit." Chihiro frantically made a grabbing motion and groped Mondo's leg desperately, yelling:  
"N-no! It's nothing like that!" And in that moment Mondo felt the inertia hit him as the synapses in his brain worked overtime to put two and two together. A force comparable to that of say, a road roller, hit him immediately, though he did not move.

"Wait…"

"Kazuichi's actually really nice… and sweet… a-and he's kind and understands me…" Chihiro's face went a deeper shade of crimson as he stuttered out every word.

"…please don't tell me you _told_ him?!"

"Y-yeah… but there's a slight b-bit more to it th-than that…"

"What more could there possibly be?!" And then a thought, sickening though it may be hit him harder still. While he thought Kazuichi may have just known Chihiro's secret, it likely went far beyond that. "Oh God." Mondo clutched his forehead and felt the sweat slide onto his hands. "A-are you two – and I can't believe I'm saying this," Mondo stuttered uncharacteristically and breathed in. "Dating?"

"Y-yeah."

Mondo could've buried his fist in both the table and Chihiro's stomach there and then and held a small speech on why dating men with shark teeth and pink hair, that reeked of oil and engine fumes, that looked like they hung around dark alleys after sundown was an emphatically horrible idea, but this eloquent speech came out as a loud slam against metal and a furious " _Him?! Really? Why?!_ " Chihiro looked like he was about to speak and give a seminar on all of the good qualities of the omni-benevolent Kazuichi Souda but Mondo knew that if that were to happen if he was still as mad as he was currently, he couldn't guarantee if the either of them wouldn't end up in a noose. "Actually, I don't wanna know. Fucking hell." Mondo let that hot flash of belligerent fury subside before sitting down. He felt faint.

"Mondo! Please! He's… I don't know why… look, there's just something there I can't ignore! He understands my talent, my secret, everything! And he accepts me for it! An-and that's why… why I always go red when I'm near him… why my heart feels funny when he hugs me… and why I kissed him… because he understands. He-he _understands_. And that's all I've ever needed." Mondo knew that given any more time in this room he would suffocate, so decided it best to make his excuses and leave before he did something he'd regret. "…well if it makes you happy, then I suppose I can be okay with it. Just don't get all mushy around me."

"Thank you! Thank you!" Chihro flung himself against Mondo.

"Yeah, yeah… you'd best get back to work. Wouldn't want to disappoint him, would ya?"

"Yeah! Thanks, Mondo! See ya!" From Chihiro's perspective, perhaps it seemed Mondo strode away, confused yet happy Chihiro was content. This was not the case. Mondo felt nothing. No shred of anger, nor a shred of happiness. There was no discontent, but neither was that void filled in equal measure by content. And there was certainly, absolutely no guilt for what he was about to do next.

Mondo hadn't paid attention up to this point of the dinner, even when conversing with Taka and his equally loud friend. It seemed time had almost skipped, as if every one of his senses had primed him for this very moment. He'd arrived, taken his seat, sneered at Fuyuhiko and then… static. His body was on autopilot, even if he was talking to his best friend. What had came before, the exchange in pleasantries perhaps people like Chihiro had tuned into, that did not matter. Cold. The pavillion was freezing cold despite the torchlight. Though Ibuki's music was oddly decent today and the torches blazed, the air was frigid and Mondo shivered as his fists clenched together, listening to Kyoko speak about this whole incident. "No. I knew Hifumi would be planning something like this. I caught him putting the aphrodisiacs on something. But they were slow-burn and would last for a while. They weren't as concentrated as these. _They lasted a while_." She repeated, letting the importance of that statement sink in. The entire room's gaze was focused solely on her. "Presumably long enough for him to have his… fun. Point is, someone who knew Gundham and was trusted enough to enter his room spiked the food with these. It's presumably to cause a distraction… but what for? No sex-crazed maniac wants only 15 minutes."

"Eengh…" Mondo always hated that ball of lard and how overly kind he was to ladies he clearly wanted in with, especially Chihiro, though he swatted that thought away as quickly as it had flashed into his head.

"So… who did it?"

Taka piped up. He was no slouch when it came to recognising patterns like this. Mondo always had to remind him intelligence and wisdom were two separate concepts, as Taka held great contempt towards so-called 'geniuses', except for Chihiro. Something to with his father, he had heard.

"Friend of Gundham's… one of Class 77. Maybe Teruteru?" The name mentioned sported a distressed look and stammered out:  
"Look, it wasn't me I tell ya! We learned our lesson with aphrodisiacs last time, right Kazuichi? Back me up here man!"

Oh yeah. There it was. The justification for what Mondo was about to do. For him, he was undoubtedly right. And even if he weren't he had reason (read: zero evidence) to conclude that Kazuichi had somehow manipulated Chihiro into loving him. Was it fear? Bribery? Blackmail? Mondo knew (read: had delusions) that if he could just whack Kazuichi hard enough the answer would be revealed. Somehow. He hadn't got that far yet, his anger had prevented that.

"Well, Kazuichi?" Suddenly every pair of eyes in the room burnt into Kazuichi, which also made Chihiro visibly uncomfortable. He didn't like seeing Kazuichi distressed. "C-Cute theory! But there's no way in hell! If I were behind it, don't you think I would've drugged Miss Sonia's food? I've only got eyes for her!" And everyone looked at each other, murmured amongst themselves, seemed happy with that defence and Kazuichi relaxed. And that was when another bolt of anger hit Mondo. In his mind, this could only mean one thing. He was manipulating not just Chihiro but everyone here – this 'Miss Sonia' was but a mere front, a facade that hid the truth from everyone despite it being so obviously there. This wasn't just manipulation anymore, this was _abuse_.

"Oh. **Oh.** So that's what all of this is about!" Mondo's voice was distorted behind layers of anger, sounding hellish and inhuman. It scared the daylights out of those around him, causing Taka to meekly ask, "Bro?" Kazuichi stood like a deer in headlights and Mondo savoured it. That terrified expression, those dancing irises stoking by fear, that trembling bottom lip was a fucking glorious sight to behold, it epitomised fear and went beyond that for Mondo, it was everything he wished to see. But tears. He wanted tears. And begging and apologies and admittance and penance and blood. All he wanted was cruelty. "You rat fucking _bastard_!" He bellowed, letting it boom and resound around the pavilion. He drank in the silence and did not falter even when Chihiro asked, "M-Mondo? Wh-what's wrong?" 

Chihiro's eyes were glassy and tried to weep but could not. "My head, my head..." He cried.

"Mondo, what's gotten into you?" Makoto questioned. He too was deathly pale, as was everyone else in the vicinity. "It looks like Kazuichi's killed a relative of yours or something…" You mean he hasn't told you? Ugh…!" He turned his back to the people present. "You guys who've taken the aphrodisiacs, raise your hands!" Everyone who had ingested it did. "Augh!" His throat let out a twisted sound of agony, like a man subject to torture. Mondo saw Chihiro's hand raised and felt his suspicions confirmed and another surge of adrenaline. "It was Kazuichi! He drugged everyone!"

"…where the fuck is this coming from?" Fuyuhiko looked angry, maybe as enraged as Mondo. And that did nothing to help the situation as Mondo was spurred even further into that white hot emotion that coursed though every part of his being.

"Are you seriously telling me you don't _**fucking know**_?!"

"My, my. It appears we are about to hear something rather interesting."

"Listen here punk." Mondo pointed a finger at Kazuichi, his gut wrought in the fire of Hephaestus. "You're clearly no alpha male. If I were you, forever rejected by someone not meant for you, constantly snubbed and alone, surrounded by machines for fuck-knows-how-long…" Mondo's voice was as cold as the tundra, oddly calm, betrayed whatever hot flashes of fury were running amok inside of him. "If someone nice, someone cute, came along and showed interest in what you did… who you were… then I'd fall in 'love' in two days and manipulate and drug them into loving you too." Mondo pointed at Kazuichi's arm. Chihiro laying his head on Kazuichi's arm His eyes were glassy, and drool dribbled down his small chin. The penny had dropped. And then Mondo let out a scream of pure rage, vaulted over the table and slammed his feet into Kazuichi's chest. That thump – that glorious thump – and that yelp of agony as Kazuichi felt the pain set in made Mondo's heart soar. He let out another kick into Kazuichi's stomach, causing another groan to ring out. And then another. And another. And another. And another and another and another and another all as his adrenaline levels rose and rose, his anger flowed into every kick and every action, every scream another spur in his side that caused him to continue on. "ORAORAORAORAORA!" Mondo screamed, a primal instinct that he didn't knew was within him – nor did he know where it even came from – but was a beautiful and bloody accompaniment to the cracks that began to ring out. Oh, those cracks. The noise they made, like snapping a pencil in two or leaving a hole in a wall. He wanted for Kazuichi to beg for mercy, to scream and cry out for more like a man reduced to a mere child out of the womb, completely stripped of dignity and unable to fight back.

No-one stopped him. Many couldn't, too drugged up or scared to even move. This was brutality on a new level. Even when Kazuichi let out ugly cries and choking sobs of submission, curling into the foetal position and begging under his breath for someone to please help him, Mondo continued to swing massive amounts of power in every kick, swinging his leg like a whip into the nape of Kazuichi's back, feeling the hard bone strike against his toes and getting pleasure from that satisfying contact. Even when Kazuichi spat blood onto the stones beneath his broken body and was so badly damaged his brain would choose not to remember this experience, Mondo did not relent, nor did he ever feel any pang of guilt or regret or any other pathetic, snivelling emotion that would stop him from turning this snivelling abuser into a bloody fucking pulp. And when Mondo's barrage ended as the adrenaline exited his body and he collapsed, he collapsed content he had done his duty.

And everyone else rushed to clean up his mess, Fuyuhiko's hands trembling as he went to Kazuichi's unconscious body and tearfully pleaded for Mikan to help. Mondo was someone he disliked, but he was still a human being and this was not his doing. This was years of anger and pent up frustrations, something Fuyuhiko had seen in both members of the clan… and himself. He looked at Mondo's body and felt a spark of pity, as he and Mikan lifted Kazuichi upwards and the night continued on, though from that day on things were beginning to change and the atmospehere around the school became darker and gloomier, as if the innocence of the building had been shattered. And, despite the fact no-one was privy to the truth of the matter, it was a precursor for things to come. Senseless brutality. It is here our tale truly begins.


	19. Please Read (with apologies)

Hiatus notice

I know, I know, don't shoot me. First I end my P5 fic and now I'm shelving this one for a bit? After two whole months without updates? Well, there's a valid reason. This fic has… evolved, to put it bluntly, my original idea I had for the whole thing is now little more than a fever dream of 8 months past and while I still have plans for this fic, it'd be best if I rewrote the thing I'm least proud of… the Kazuichi and Chihiro chapters. They're a mess. The only thing I like is the ending and as such, I decided to dig up my old idea and begin writing it. They'll stay as they are on here, but this rediscovery of my old wish for a detective fic formed The Understudy, which I will now work on as my main project. Imagine it as an Alternate Universe where it seems these characters were actually aware of each other and I don't pathetically attempt to write romance in a couple of thousand words by instead just dropping you in the middle of it and forcing you to accept it. So, I suppose this is an indefinite goodbye for those of you that don't plan on reading it. But please do. My low self-esteem depends on you.

–throwcementatmyface (with even more apologies and hopes you'll enjoy The Understudy)


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